Connie Chastain Interview

1. Why do you write romance?

Basically, because I love men and I write to honor them.  They are absolutely fascinating creatures.  Women and men are similar enough to understand each other's humanity, but we have differences, too.

Here's how I conceptualize it. We've all seen the astrological symbols for male and female (male, Mars, circle and arrow; female, Venus, circle and cross).

Sometimes you see the circles linked, but I think the depictions of them overlapping, perhaps 75% of the circle, illustrate it best. The area where the circles overlap illustrates how men and women are alike (i.e., the human characteristics we share) and those parts of the circle outside the overlap are how we are different (the sex/gender characteristics we don't share).

I don't think we can even understand each other in those areas. But there's plenty enough commonality within the overlap for us to get along; and the differences, frankly, are what attract us to each other.

2. Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?

Several. I didn't consciously plan it this way, but a theme, or at least an element, that runs through my stories is the difficulty people sometimes have accepting forgiveness/redemption after they have wronged someone. This element plays a crucial role in Southern Man, which I self-published, and Storm Surge, which is currently under consideration by a small publisher in a west coast state.  It also occurs in a couple of my mainstream non-romance WIPs.

Another recurring theme or element is criticism of feminism, or at least, radical feminism and third-wave feminism.  I like voting and being paid what my work is worth, but I am irrevocably opposed to the man-hating aspects of feminism, and the more recent hook-up culture feminism that I believe is so harmful to women. (This is primarily the reason for the "controversial" and "politically incorrect" references in my author logline.)

A third recurring theme or element is the American South, its people (especially its men!), history and culture.  Although I'm a lifelong Southerner, except for a five-year sojourn in the Midwest, I'm as fascinated with my region, its beauties, mysteries and contradictions, as any outsider.

Another element is the role religion, specifically Christianity, plays in my characters' lives. I don't write Christian romances--I've read a few and found them, um, well, a bit too preachy. (I realize they may not all be like that.) Current pop culture eschews religion, sometimes ridicules it, and worst of all, frequently portrays religious people as bizarre, even monstrous. I personally don't know any religious people like that, and I frankly resent the portrayal that slanders legions of good, decent people. Regardless of the irreverence in pop culture, religion plays an important role in the lives of real people, though they may not realize it. I try to show how faith manifests in my characters' lives without in-your-face scripture-quoting and such, so my stories are written with a Christian worldview.

Finally, one of the most fascinating elements, something I love to explore, is reality versus appearance.  How a character's life/work/family may look to those outside it contrasted with how the character himself experiences it.  As an example, in Southern Man, the protagonist, Troy Stevenson, for all his sexiness and good looks, is perceived by co-workers to be a rather staid, upright religionist married to a straight-laced little Southern Baptist wife, when in fact they have an extremely powerful sexual bond, and a very satisfying, um, innovative sex life.

3. Do you have a specific writing style?

Yeah.  I tell, don't show, and I head-hop.

Just joking!

My stories are written mostly from the POV of a disembodied, impersonal narrator--but not third person omniscient.  I conceptualize the narrator as a video-camera that shows or tells, whichever does the job best. The camera  floats around and focuses on what it thinks is important for the reader to see/know.  It can zoom out to see a whole room, a whole planet, a whole universe, or zero in on the multicolored flecks in the irises of the hero's soulful eyes....

The narrator will share POV with one character per scene, but only one; that's how I avoid head-hopping.  Critiquers sometimes detect POV "slippage" between the narrator and a character, and if it's too blatant, I'll address it, but I usually let it go. (I've generally found readers to be oblivious to POV issues.)

I try to conform to the simplified writing style advocated by Rudolph Flesch in How to Write, Speak and Think More Effectively.  Short paragraphs, short, mostly simple sentences (in subject, verb, object order) varied with occasional compound and complex sentences.  There's more to it than that, and there are other schools of simplified writing, but this discipline has done more to make my writing viable than anything else I've encountered.

Flesch's book is out of print, but used copies are available, and I recommend it to any writer.  Fiction writers only need to read the first few chapters.

3.  What inspired you to write your first book?

Southern Man emerged as a prequel to Sweet, Southern Boys, a non-romance about three teenage boys in Georgia, growing up best friends, whose lives are ruined when they're accused of rape.  That book was a prequel to Little Sister, which was--oh, heck, never mind.  I started writing Little Sister first, but Southern Man was the first one finished and published, so it's really the first.

It was inspired by a comment made by Reade Seligmann, one of the Duke Lacrosse defendants.  I no longer have the quote, and can't find it online, but he said something like, when he saw pictures of himself on national TV and heard news reports about what he was accused of, "I can't tell you what that did to me inside."

I wanted to tell what it does inside to a good, decent man to be falsely accused of that type of crime.  In Southern Man, the accusation was toned down to sexual harassment because it is set in the early 1980s, when a lot of sexual harassment law and policy was being formulated in the United  States. But the story focuses on the experience of the protagonist, Troy Stevenson--what it did to him inside--and the effects it had on his family.



4.  How much of the book is realistic?

I tried to make all of it realistic; the office politics where Troy works, the viciousness of small-town gossip; the pull and tug of progressivism versus traditionalism.  People might think the adoration of Troy's wife for him is a bit unrealistic--he acknowledges that her love for him borders on idolatry--but even she has her limits, and her near worship of him does cause emotional problems for her.

The only other element I'm concerned about is the realism of the children in the story. I don't have kids. I've never been around them much, and the portrayal of Troy's kids really concerned me; but thus far, I've received absolutely no feedback that the kids aren't realistic.

As for the realism of false sexual harassment accusations, as one of my video trailers alludes to, nearly half of the sexual harrassment complaints brought before the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission are dismissed after investigation for "no reasonable cause found."

5. Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

No. Except for the Seligmann quote referred to, the story is based only on recent and current cultural trends in the USA.  None of my stories are based on my own experiences, except incidentally.  For example, in Storm Surge, I draw on my experience in property and casualty insurance claims and living through coastal hurricanes, but I made up the specific events of the story.

6.  What are your current projects?

I've just started a paranormal romance with the working title Wrong Turn. It's about a man who doesn't believe in crypto-primates (Bigfoot/Sasquatch) until the woman he's falling in love with is imperiled by them.

The aforementioned Sweet Southern Boys is about three-quarters complete, Little Sister is about a third complete.  The Candidate, a follow-up to Southern Man, is in the planning stages.  None of these are romances but they include romantic elements.

7.  What books have most influenced your life most?

As far as my writing life goes, the earliest books to inspire me were the Nero Wolfe mysteries by the inimitable Rex Stout.  To this day, Archie Goodwin is the only first-person narrator I can abide.  I read The Doorbell Rang when I was about thirteen and at some point after finishing several more of the series, I was thinking in narrative and dialog.

Others include Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, and the Louisiana novels of Frances Parkinson Keyes,

Robin Lee Graham's Dove. Favorite classics include Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass; Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time.

I could go on, but those are representative.

8. Please tell us about your most recent release and where we can purchase it.

Southern Man is about a devoted family man who is targeted with a false sexual harassment complaint by an amoral young woman and her uber-feminist mentor.

Here's a blurb:

=========

In 1983, in moss-hung Verona, Georgia, the tender and tenacious love between a hardworking man and his adoring wife is tested by sudden adversity.

Corporate executive Troy Stevenson must confront his nascent alcohol abuse or he risks losing the wife, daughter and son he deeply loves. When his latent destructiveness impacts his family, he moves to their weekend cottage to come to grips with his personal weaknesses.

But busybodies at his company assume he left home because his marriage is in trouble. Encouraged by the assumption, co-worker Brooke Emerson, a 1980s material girl romantically obsessed with Troy, attempts to seduce him, setting in motion a chain of events with harrowing consequences for him and his family.

=========

I created a publishing company, Brasstown Books, to bring it to print.  (I enjoyed publishing the book so much, I'd eventually like to do go into that as a sideline and publish other writers' books and stories, both in print and e-book format.)

Here are links to more information about Southern Man on my website:

Summary:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_summary.html

Excerpt:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_excerpt.html

Videos (yeah, plural; four of 'em, ha!)

http://conniechastain.com/sm_videos.html

Reviews:

http://conniechastain.com/reviews.html

Southern Man is available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle versions, and on Smashwords.

Print:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-Connie-Chastain/dp/061529801X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1245882533&sr=1-1

Kindle:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-ebook/dp/B002Z7G1F4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1259715283&sr=1-2

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/13733

9. Please give us your urls and your publisher’s url.

My website:

http://conniechastain.com

My blog (not entirely devoted to writing):

http://conniechastain.blogspot.com

My publishing site:

http://brasstownbooks.com

10.  Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

Yes. I learned to tell, not show, and to head-hop!  LOL!

Again, I'm kidding.

What I learned is to not let the "rules" put your creativity in a straight jacket.  There were so many false starts with Southern Man, as I sought to conform to the rules ("Open with a hook," "Get straight to the action," "No infodumps!" "Sprinkle the backstory," "Show, don't tell," "No prologues,") that I sometimes despaired of completing the book. At the very least, I feared it would rob the story of my voice, and in that case, I might as well not finish it.

I learned so much about how to craft a story, and it is valuable knowledge, but what I would share with other writers is, listen to yourself. When all is said and done, agent newsletters, editor blogs, crit groups do not write your story. You do.  And only you, so guard your voice.

It was great having you Connie on NN.

Tabitha

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules. Every rule broken was done on purpose.

Chapter Three

The four women pushed on past the carnage of the decimated bear. Fur and entrails dripped from the forest around them.

"That’s just gross!" Brenda picked up her dainty booted feet and gathered her silky drac cape closer.

Tabby tried to put on a brave front, while forcing back her rising nausea.

"Let's get a move on, ladies. Ya'll are on my last nerve."

Cindy did a little heebie jeeby dance and dashed past the bear parts strewn about. Strange hissing sounds came from her. Looking like a foil wrapped baked potato, she ran past Penny.

Rolling her eyes, Penny skillfully avoided the worst of the goo.

"Ok, does anyone have a map?" Penny asked.

The forest around lit, with the four separate cell phones accessing the web for links on  how to get through the forest of writers block.

"Lions and tigers and  ... Oh, no more bear," Brenda laughed.

Penny and Tabby smiled, thinking the worst must be behind them.

"I got a bad feeling," Cindy said.

"Nonsense, the map on my phone said all we have to do is press on." Penny told them all.

Tabby wrinkled her dark brows. "Mine said, close my eyes and take a nap."

"The map I found said, go read my favorite book again," chimed in Brenda.

"Yeah, well, I think they're all full of crap. My map said you have to do a little dance." Cindy sneered.

Penny walked ahead of the group, eyeing the quiet forest looming around them. "Cindy is right. Something is not quite right…"

A small sweet voice called out from the distance.

"Grammy." Its haunting sweetness called to Penny. Her body swayed toward the sound.

"Ri?" The voice beckoned, luring Penny into the darkness of the forest.

"Help me, Penny. Help me." The voices changed, echoed eerily. "Edit this, crit that."

The forest morphed into huge dancing punctuation marks. They swirled around her, forming a spinning hypnotic image. Lilting music filled the air. A long squiggly line like those under a misspelled word coiled and danced like a cobra to a flute. The words, it must be perfect, formed in the leaves of the trees, and held Penny spellbound. She began to chant.

"Backspace…backspace… backspace."

"No, Penny. Don't. It’s a trap!" yelled Tabby. She moved forward to stop Penny from the siren's song calling her.

Tabby almost made it to Penny, when her ankle was grabbed by a shiny blue wire.

Wild shrieks ripped from a Tabby's throat. The forest around her was suddenly alive with wires in a myriad of colors, all weaving, and twining around Tabby. She tried in vain to free herself from the electronic ambush. It tugged and pulled at her, hanging her like an ornament in the branches.

Brenda screamed. She wanted to help her friends from the traps that held them. Looking down at the forest floor beneath her, rich dark soil sank into a pit under her feet. The smell of sweet flowers and ripening fruit invaded her senses. From the dirt below, she heard the faint crow of a renegade rooster. It was too late. The soil crept and crawled up her legs, sucking her down into its depths.

Cindy stood like one of the trees around her, frozen in place by terror. How could she help the others? She leaned one way then the other. Unable to fully commit to helping any one individual, she helped none. Just then she was knocked to the ground by a pair of kids' sneakers. One after the other she was pelted by shoes and laundry. Grocery bags wound around her wrists and ankles, and one gagged her. The only sound from her was the muffle grunts when she was stomped on by the endless pairs of kid's shoes.

It looked like it was over for the four. Each one tangled and pulled under by their own personal demons. When it seemed darkest, and our girls were beyond help, four pulses of light glowed. From the light nearest Penny stepped four people. Two looked like they belonged in an ad for corporate life. Mick held his hand out to help Jo step into the spongy forest floor.

"This isn't exactly the best place for these heels. They're Italian."

Mick, ever the gentleman, picked her up in his muscled arms. Behind them came another couple. The woman's arms, laden with delicious smelling baked goods. Raef ran his hands through his hair.

"Not again… Penny... Penny… "

Grace moved toward Penny. "She is in some sort of trance."

Mick, carrying Jo, walked in front of Penny's unseeing eyes.

"Penny? Honey?" Jo reached out to put a gentle hand to her shoulder.

All four turned toward the abyss of the forest were the haunting voices and hypnotic punctuation held fast to their Penny.

"Grace, toss me a fresh loaf of bread," Raef said.

He caught the warm loaf and waved the fragrant bread beneath Penny's nose.

Then together both couples yelled, "PENNY!"

Waking from her dream, Penny shook herself. For the first time, she looked into the faces of the four.

"You had us worried there," Mick told her, readjusting Jo in his arms. He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear.

"Do you think you could write a pair of gym shoes into Jo's bag?"

Penny smiled, and seemed to relax in the safety of her characters.

"Sure Mick. I just did."

Jo looked into her large purse and pulled a nice pair of jogging shoes from the depths. Grace dumped the rest of the baked goods into Raef's arms and went to help Jo.

"I love those pumps. Where did you get them?"

"Macys, twenty percent off. They are comfortable and they make your calves look great."

"You know, I am moving to a small town. Do you think we can go shopping before I move?"

"We have to bring Penny. She is the one who picked out this skirt. It was one of the things that caught Mick's eye," she laughed.

From the second pulse of light nearest Tabby emerged Zan. His tanned skin glowed as if he stepped from a Giorgio Armani commercial. The wind ruffled the half-open silk shirt tucked into his well-tailored trousers. At the site of Tabby, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, he smiled revealing his pearly white fangs. Caprice came up behind him. Her small golden sequined, shift dress glided over the curves of her slinky body. She scrunched her perfect face when she saw the state Tabby was in.

"Move it, angel boy. Can't you tuck those things in to get through the door?"

"Woman, don’t give me your lip."

Lyric and Craigen stumbled from the light.

"Dearest Lord," Craigen exclaimed, rushing to Tabby's side. His mouth fell open as he circled. Tabby hung in the trees by her arms and legs. She was wound tightly with wires and cords from electronics of all kinds.

"Ge ma oot off here," Tabby mumbled. Her eyes flashed angrily, the blackberry stuffed in her mouth making her words difficult to understand. Craigen pulled a small glowing dagger from his belt he wiped the blade across his denim clad leg.

"How the hell did you get yourself into this mess?" Lyric asked. Her arms crossed over her dark business suit.

She threw Craigen a surprised look. "Well, what are you waiting for? Cut her loose. You too, Choppers."

Zan's deep chuckle brought a blush to Caprices face.

"You going to help? He asked her. His smoldering gaze undressing her in his mind.

Caprice looked away from him. Her face burnt with thoughts of Zan. "Let the FBI chick do it. I just had my nails done." For effect, she blew on her perfectly manicured fingers.

Zan leaned close to her sniffing the air around her.

"Those better be dry by the time were though here, or you're going to smudge them on my back."

"Cut the crap, Sauvé, and help me get our Tabby out of this," Craigen said.

Lyric pulled a well-concealed switchblade from inside of her blouse. She cut the wires imprisoning Tabby. Craigen's brows came together in concentration. Each slice of his dagger, gently done with care for Tabby's safety. Zan sauntered up to Tabby. His gaze locked with hers. He moved with deliberate sensuality. Dipping his head toward Tabby's neck, his warm tongue pulled a wire from her skin and his fangs sliced it cleanly. He growled and went after another.

"Good Lord vampire, you're not being graded on this." Lyric smirked.

Caprice stamped her Prada flats and warned Zan with a look that could have lit the sun.

Zan laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I can't help it. I'm that good."

Tabby finally breathed a sigh of relief as the three of them freed her from the last of the wires. Craigen pulled her into his comforting arms, and kissed the top of her head.

"All safe, precious."

Brenda's head was just slipping beneath the shifting dirt. Her hands clawed wildly at the ground. Mel threw himself to the ground followed closely by Breeana. The two of them desperately tried to dig her from her impending grave. Mel shoved his hands deep into the earth and pulled with all his might. Brenda's head pulled free of the ground. She sucked in a huge breath, choking and spitting dirt from her mouth.

"What the hell is this?" Breeana pulled a potato from beneath the ground.

A rag tag group of vampires dropped down beside Mel and joined in the fight against the dirt that was still trying to pull Brenda away.

Kal watched from the sidelines. A plate of nachos balanced in one hand. The other hand dipped a chip into the cheese and popped it into his mouth.

"Kal! … A hand here? Mel complained.

Kal passed the plate of nachos to Ace and pulled a small garden shovel from his back pocket. He joined the crew of vigorously digging vampires.

"Ace!" yelled Mel.

"What? Save a human or a plate of nachos?"

"Ace," the others warned.

"I'm thinking," he snarled back.

Sin swore and fell back as he pulled a screeching rooster from the dirt.

"What the bloody hell is this?" He directed the comment at Breeana.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"You’re the vet."

"So, I didn’t put the damn rooster there."

Mel tugged harder, readjusting his grip under Brenda arms. Brenda cried, her arms wound around Mel's neck.

The small silver shovel in Kal's hands pitched the dirt away from Brenda's body. The speed of his hands helped uncover her. Mel continued to tug her from the cloying ground. Sin and Black's grasp on Brenda helped Mel pull her from the ground.

Breeana let out a blood-curdling scream as the head of a small miniature horse broke free of the mud and reached out to bite the back of Brenda's jeans.

Brenda and Breeana shrieked in tandem as the horse's teeth tried to pull Brenda back into the ground.

Kal thumped the horse on the face with the garden shovel.

"Stop that. You'll hurt him," Breeana moaned.

"He is trying to eat Brenda," Kal exclaimed. "What do you want me to do, give him a reward?"

"Kiwi, let go," screamed Brenda as her legs flayed to gain purchase on the shifting ground.

At last, the group of vampires pulled Brenda from the dirt and dragged her away from the pit where the horse and chicken still eyed Brenda. An evil laugh echoed from a group of raccoons at the edge of the forests, strawberries, and raspberries clutched in their paws.

"That is just freakin weird," Kal said to Mel

Ace threw the empty plate toward the raccoons, scattering them.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, he crouched down where Mel still held Brenda in his muscled arms. His large hand picking chunks of mud from her hair.

Brenda wiped her mouth on her dirty arm and immediately spit the dirt from her mouth.

"Ack.".

Ace looked into Brenda's dirt smudged face.

"You’re a mess, human."

"Thanks for the help, jerk," Brenda grumbled. "Just wait," she warned, pulling debris from her scraggly tangled hair and smoothing the bedraggled cape over her legs.

The last of the lights flared as an endless horde of people spilled forth. Miles, barefoot, skipped to where Cindy was drowning beneath shoes, laundry, and backpacks. The trees around them jingled with the sound of car keys. Each key lit with an address... an eerie sick green light cycled on and off in the branches, spelling out the words taxi. Andros pulled a pulse rifle from his belt and one by one picked off the car keys from the branches. They dropped harmlessly to the forest floor.

Miles leaned over Cindy, flashing her a bright smile and a wink.

"Got yourself in a bit of a pickle, eh?"

Georgia shook her head and began to pull the shoes off the heaping pile.

Tally took a laser scalpel and carefully started to cut away the plastic grocery bags from Cindy's wrists. The pungent odor of burning plastic tainted the air.

Miles pulled out a tennis racquet and began to toss shoes in the air and swat them away…yelling, "Fore," as he did.

"I've got a hell of a serve," he boasted. Georgia laughed up at him and gave him the next shoe to smack.

Rory set up a perimeter around the whole group, signaling to a group of commandos to lay low and keep their eyes open.

Jonas stood behind Andros and scored his shots.

"4.5, 3.7," he laughed

"Close your face, boy scout."

"Like you know what a boy scout is," Jonas smirked.

"I am capable of reading your human script. Now let's get that fool out of the way and see if we can't uncover Cindy."

Andros and Jonas joined Miles in pulling the hundreds of shoes off her. Once free, Andros held out a hand and pulled Cindy to her feet. Dusting herself off, she surveyed the group around them. Each of her fellow writers was pulled free of their troubles by the very characters each created. The voices of the characters refused to be ignored. The humans, vampires, and aliens gathered around their writer and jealously guarded them. Now flesh and blood, none of them would go unheard. Whatever lies ahead in the dangerous forest of writers block, they would all go as a group. There was safety in numbers, and the characters were not about to let the forest swallow them up. Even if it meant holding the hand of their writers, this dedicated and boisterous group would not be put back on a shelf.

"Let's head out. I'll take point," said Rory. An enormous gun, skillfully handled. She aimed into the dark recess of the forest.

"We're all in this together, and need each other," Tally put in. Her gentle look passed over the whole, strange lot of writers and characters.

"Me wanker is yodeling. I've got to drain the hose," Miles remarked.

Andros, shaking his head, walked past him. "Idiot."

By Cindy Pahl

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules. Every rule broken was done on purpose.

Chapter One

Tabby walked into her office determined to get some writing done today. Nothing was going to stop her. Opening the door, her mouth dropped. Sure nothing was going to stop her but that giant brick wall looming before her. Releasing a sigh as tension radiated up her spine.  The computers were on the other side. This was just great. Backing up into the wall she slid to the floor and entangled her fingers in he hair.

“Hey…what the hell is that?” Brenda asked wide-eyed.

Looking up, Tabby, noticed her partners in crime had arrived.

Sarcasm spewed from Tabby’s mouth. “Ahh…looks like a brick wall.”

“What are we going to do?” Brenda questioned as she looked to Tabby.

“I don’t know. My first reaction was to pull out my hair!”

“I don’t think that is going to do anything.”

“Well, too late.” She turned to show the ladies a huge bald spot on the side of her head. The light bounced off her shiny scalp.

Laughter echoed off the walls of the large office.

“Hey fang girl, shut it. This isn’t funny!” Tabby looked down at the clump of hair on the floor.  Tears pooled in her eyes. No, damn it. She was not going to cry!

“Well at least I don’t come to work in angel wings and a halo.” Brenda put her arms out and flapped them like a bird. Her black cape fluttered with her movements.

Tabby pointed a finger at Cindy. “She’s the one wearing the silver jump suit and glittery bouncy balls on her head. She looks like a bad SyFy movie threw up on her.” Three sets of eyes glared at Cindy.

“What? It inspires me. I have to engross myself in the world I write.”

A laugh came from the back of the room. “I’m the only normal one here.” Penny smiled.

All three ladies squinted at Penny. “Shut up!”

“Guess the truth hurts.” Penny shrugged. “How are we going to get over that wall?” She glanced at Tabby.

“Hey, why do I always have to fix everything?” Tabby pushed to her feet and blew out a breath.  “Never mind I will do it.”

Tabby smiled. “Watch and learn. As paranormal and SyFy writers we have other worldly characters with amazing powers. You only have humans in contemporary.” Smug satisfaction tugged at her features. “Craigen can get us through that wall.” A sexy angel appeared. Tabby stared as her breath stuck in her throat. He was gorgeous. Tall dark and handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. “I need you to teleport us through that wall. I’ll go first.”

Craigen nodded his head and wrapped his arms around Tabby. Mmm…he smelled good. She closed her eyes and trusted her strong angel would do as she asked. He could do this she just knew it. Craigen lifted her into the air and they started to levitate towards the wall. Tabby hit the wall with a loud thud and bounced off landing on the floor. She lay sprawled out on the carpet. Her head ached and she looked up to find Craigen gazing down at her.

“Sorry, Tabs, that’s one strong wall. I have never had that happen before.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just go.” It was bad enough everyone was laughing at her.

“My turn! My turn!” Brenda chanted as she jumped up and down. “My vampire can do it. Mel.” A tall sexy dark haired vampire appeared. “I need you to break down that wall.”

Mel smiled. “No problem.” He cracked his knuckles as he stepped up to the wall and proceeded to punch the bricks.

Tabby felt her blood boil. Why did vampires have to be so sexy? It was so easy to fall head over heels in love. She was jerked from her thoughts by Cindy’s cry.

“Oh my God!” Cindy ran to Brenda. A brick had hit her right between the eyes.

“Is she okay?” Penny asked.

Brenda grumbled and sat up. Her hand flew to the large lump forming on her forehead. “What happened?”

Tabby rolled her eyes and glanced up at the ceiling. “Your big bad vampire didn’t break the wall. He only managed to knock you on your ass with a flying brick.” All eyes turned to Mel. He just shrugged his shoulders and disappeared. Tabby reached a hand down to helped Brenda up and tossed her the vampire fangs that had fallen from her mouth.

“Okay, I got this.” Cindy replied.  “My alien and his high tech equipment can take down that wall. Andros.”  A very sexy orange tinted alien appeared. “I need you to demolish that wall.”

Tabby wondered how an orange alien could be so sexy but damn he was hot as hell. She snapped her mouth shut and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nope they were all starry eyed too. Lost in their own personal fantasies. Penny was the only on that didn’t seem to drool at the sexy Andros.

“No problem.” He withdrew a sliver gun from a holster on his hip and pointed it at the wall. It made a hissing sound as it warmed up. He rolled his shoulders as a cocky grin graced his chiseled features.

“I don’t think this is a good…” Tabby and the others were struck with bolts of electricity that bounced off the wall before she could finish her sentence. She shook the fog from her head and glanced around. “Damn it, Cindy!”

Andros put his metallic gun away. “What the hell is that wall made of?”

“Sorry.” Then Cindy burst into laughter. “Its made of all the stresses that we let get in the way of our writing.”

He raised a brow as his eyes bore into the four women. “You ladies have some serious issues. I’m out of here.”

Tabby then realized their hair was standing on end and smoke was wafting off their heads. Penny’s body spasmed as the electricity dissipated. “Well that’s what you guys get for laughing at my bald spot! Now we all are having a bad hair day.” Tabby burst out laughing as she watched the ladies all get to their feet.

Penny shook her head. “That’s it. Time to call in the human. Evidently none of your guys can get the job done. And I am not letting any more of this insanity continue. I may write with you guys but I’m not dying with you!” She stood and dusted off her clothes. “Raef.” A very handsome dark haired man appeared.  All the women’s mouth’s dropped. A smug smile tugged at the corners of Penny’s mouth. “He’s not too bad for a human, huh?” Everyone just shook their heads. Raef cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry, I need to know the best way to get through that wall.” Penny replied.

“Why do you have to go through it? Can’t you just go around it?” He raised a single dark brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

All the ladies looked at each other. “Hmmm…why didn’t we think of that?” Cindy laughed.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. See, humans use logic, not powers. Lets go!” Penny looked to the right of the looming brick wall to find a long winding road that disappeared into a dark forest.

“You want us to go out there?” Tabby pointed and shook her head. “No way! There might be lions and tigers and bears out there.”

Penny ran her hands trough her crispy hair. “We have an angel, vampire, alien and if need be a human with amazing reasoning skills. We will be fine. Plus it will be a great adventure. We can’t just sit here and hope that wall disappears. We have to be stronger than the wall.”

The ladies all looked at each other.  “I don’t think we have a whole lot of options here. Looks like we go through the forest.” Tabby reached out shaky hands to Brenda and Cindy.

To be continued…

Come back Friday the 17th for part two of our crazy journey written by Brenda Dyer.

Happy Reading and Writing,

Tabitha Blake

Brenda Dyer Interview

1)    WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE READERS TO TAKE AWAY FROM YOUR STORY?

I would like my readers to come away with a sense of satisfaction of a story well told—LOL, or shown as we writers are always prodded to do. But more than that, I hope my readers feel the deep love my hero and heroine share. Also, I would love for readers to think of my characters even when they are finished the book. Think of them and smile.

2)    DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER PASSIONS BESIDES WRITING? IF YES, WHAT ARE THEY?

I love gardening. I get so much joy out of it. For me, a perfect summer morning starts with my coffee out on the deck, looking at all my flowers, smelling the different fragrances, and watching the bees and hummingbirds. I also like to grow my own vegetables. I get such satisfaction from making a raspberry pie from my own raspberries, or having fresh peas from the garden, or potatoes. I love it!

Another passion of mine is drawing and painting. I'm terrible at drawing people—unless they are cartoons. I stick to animals usually: horses, birds, and wildlife, like deer or raccoons, but let's not talk about raccoons, lol. I'm at war with them right now over my raspberries.

3)  IF YOU HAD ONE WISH, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

One wish, huh? Well, if this was real life, I would have to say world peace. LOL, makes me sound like a contestant for Miss America. But since this is for the interview, I'm going to say my one wish would be for my novel to get published and for readers to LOVE it. LOL, I guess that's two wishes, eh?

4)    WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW? WHY?

This is an easy question to answer. The show Supernatural. The reason for this is simple: two hot—and I mean hot—guys fighting evil. Sam and Dean Winchester fight all manner of paranormal creatures. This is right up my alley!

5)    ARE YOU A CAT OR DOG PERSON? DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS, AND IF SO, PLEASE TELL US ABOUT THEM.

I'm a cat person. We have four. Their names are: Author, Tinkerbell—we call her T—Neens, and a beautiful black and white cat we rescued. We named him Lucky. Along with our cats, we have two miniature horses named Kiwi and Ebony, a miniature goat named Cody, chickens, two budgies, and fish. I think that's it. Let me go check . . . . yep, that's it.

6)    WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I live in Canada on Vancouver Island. It is located on the west coast. I absolutely love it here—well, except for all the rain we get in the winter. The weather here is very mild. We rarely get snow in the winter, which bugs me cause I love snow, but I'm sure I wouldn't if we had it month after month. The summers are beautiful.

7)    WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE YOUR FIRST BOOK?

What inspired me, hmmm? Well, I guess what inspired me was a romance novel I read—it was fifth in a series, my favorite character—and I was so disappointed with the way it ended so I wrote my own ending, lol. Then something really strange happened. Ideas started popping into my head. Not about the novel that had annoyed me, but something totally different. I ran with it, and before I knew it, I was writing the rough draft for my MS. I've never aspired to be a writer, in fact, I hated creative writing back in high school.

8)    IS THERE A MESSAGE IN YOUR NOVEL THAT YOU WANT READERS TO GRASP?

You know, I never thought there was a message in my novel until I read this question. And yes, there is a message I would like readers to grasp. Tolerance for other races and how damaging rumors and lies can be. In my novel once upon a time, vampires and humans shared the earth as friends—two different species working together in harmony. That fell a part when when demons—housed in human bodies—whispered lies to humans, saying the vampires were trying to kill them so they could take the earth as their own. Humans believed these lies and turned their backs on vampires and started executing them until vamps went into hiding. The world went downhill from there. Vampires and humans became estranged from then on.

9)    NAME ONE PERSON THAT YOU FEEL SUPPORTED YOU OUTSIDE OF FAMILY MEMBERS.

You!

10) WHAT WAS THE HARDEST PART OF WRITING YOUR BOOK?

The hardest part of writing my book has been the whole thing, lol. Writing doesn't come naturally to me. It's hard work, but I so enjoy it.

11) DID YOU LEARN ANYTHING FROM WRITING YOUR BOOK, AND WHAT IS IT?

Yes, I learned that I can accomplish anything if I set my mind to it. I know this sound cliché,  but it's the truth.

Thank you very much, Tabby, for giving me this opportunity. I enjoyed it very much.

It was great to have you Brenda.

Tabitha

To Read For Better Or Worse

I have done my fair share of crits but needed to know exactly what is expected from a beta-reader. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole process. I do have to give credit where credit is due and say it was an easy read. Afterwards I spoke with the author about the questions and concerns I had. She was very responsive and I was able to point out things she hadn’t noticed. We discussed what actions would help get rid of some of the holes and things left unresolved. All and all this was a great experience I would definitely do again. So I thought I would give a little crash course on beta reading. Lets start with what a beta reader is and go from there.

Beta Reader:

Is a person who reads a written work, generally fiction, with what has been described as “a critical eye, with the aim of improving grammar, spelling, characterization, and general story prior to it’s release to the general public.”

Why Do Authors Need A Beta-Reader:

A beta-reader is your editor, proofreader and sounding board for ideas. Yeah you have spell check and grammar checkers but a beta-reader goes beyond that. A good beta-reader can point out if your plot has more holes than Swiss cheese. They can tell you if you are using a fanfic cliché, look at technical details like over use of certain words. They can also be your cheerleading section and provide encouragement when you have writers block. Writers with beta-readers will almost always turn out better stories.

What Should A Beta-Reader Expect From The Author:

1: The author to incorporate some changes. Notice I said some.

2: You should expect a thank you note or a thank you in the intro of the book. But this all depends on how much work you put into the project.

3: You should expect to talk to the author. They may have questions about your comments.

4: You should expect the author to tell you their expectations on what you are about to do. If they don’t tell you, ask. You want to be on the same page.

What Should An Author Expect From A Beta-Reader:

1: Communication is key. If you don’t tell your beta-reader what you want, you may not get it. Communicate; it will save you a lot of exasperation and time in the end.

2: You should expect your beta-reader to take your story seriously.

3: You should expect them to be thorough. They shouldn’t just give it a pass and only make one or two comments. They should try and catch as many errors as possible.

4: You shouldn’t expect your beta-reader to find every single mistake. They may miss something. After all we are only human.

5: You shouldn’t expect your beta-reader to comment on things outside of their expertise. If they don’t have the best grammar skills, don’t expect them to catch these errors. Instead, they could look for plot holes, characterization issues and loose ends.

6: Expect your beta-reader to complete the read in a timely manner. Discuss this and come to terms about what time frame you expect.

7: Do expect your beta-reader to be honest. The honesty will help strengthen your work.

8: Do expect some opinions to creep in. Remember opinions are just that opinions. This is where the author makes a judgment call.

9: Expect things to be said about what your beta-reader liked. They should let you know what they think works in the story. That way you don’t loose the good stuff in the editing process.

So now that you know what a beta reader is, here are some tips for being a good beta reader.

Tips For The Beta-Reader:

1: Be specific. Point out the exact spot where things don’t work, not just vague generalities.

2: Make suggestions (Which are free to be ignored) as to how the problem can be solved.

3: Point out the good bits too. You need to point out you favorite part not just for encouragement but so the author doesn’t end up losing the really great parts in the editing process.

Tips For The Author:

1: Thank your beta reader even if what they said wasn’t helpful. They took time out to read your story and for that they should be thanked.

2: Remember what your beta reader said is only an opinion and isn’t gospel. This is your story and you have the final say. On the other hand listen to your beta reader, because what was the point if you won’t take the time to listen.

3: If a suggestion is made you don’t agree with then explain why. It may be that when you explain your reasoning, or the intent, you may be able to figure out between you something that works for you both.

Never take on the role of beta-reader lightly, it is a big project and requires a lot of time. This isn’t nightly reading. It’s very important to the author, you are the first person to look at their story and give them feed back on their work. You are the person that will help them fix all the holes in the story and show them things the may not have noticed.

Authors remember to listen to your beta-reader; they have put a lot of time and effort into reading and trying to help you. Remember to be open to their thoughts, should you change everything they bring to your attention? No, but a good beta-reader can make a great story even better. Talk to them and bounce ideas off them. After all two minds are always better than one.

I recently had a criter advise me to change the POV of one of my chapters and at first I was skeptical. But it took my chapter to new levels, it reads better and is so much more interesting now.

I hope this helped to explain the process of beta reading and the roles the beta-reader and author play in the process.

I also wanted to share I have a new crit group I just opened and we have a beta read section. Something a lot of crit groups don’t have. I am currently looking for new members. You can join by clicking on the Yahoo button to the right. Hope to see you there.

Happy Reading And Writing,

Tabitha Blake