Interviewed

I was interviewed for Siren Book Reviews' Ezine.  It's their premier issue so I feel especially honored. - E.

PS - To download the Ezine click the link at the bottom of the Ezine page.

Thoughts on when to 'show' and when to 'tell'...

I got to thinking about the personal emotions of the characters I was working with as I was writing on a very long scene for a WIP. I realized I had not put emotions in, in terms of the - ‘He cares for me,’ she thought, ‘How wonderful/awful/what am I going to do?’ – sense of showing what she felt internally about a potentially romantic situation/complication. To do so would have broken the flow of the action. A frown, a smile, a look of panic or worry says it all just as well for the moment. A long internal discourse is not needed at that point in time.

After all, when you think about it, how often in real life does a ‘bubble’ appear above someone’s head to indicate how they feel about something? Never. You get their feelings from how they act, what shows on their faces, what they say or do, or don’t say and do, in response to a given situation.

Now I’m not saying there aren’t times in a story when you need to show the internal thoughts and feelings of the protagonists. In one-on-one personal talks or interactions it is often necessary and I do put them in.

However when you’re in the middle of a scene that involves intense discussion, and/or action, between several characters, to break into it with one character’s thoughts about what going on, when words or visible responses will do it just as well is, to my way of thinking at least, counter-productive to the flow of the narrative.

            I’d be interested to hear how other people feel about this. 

            E.

Finally, finally....

I have a computer that works the way it should. This is after buying a new one about five months ago. For the first two plus months it was great. Well if I ignored the occasional ‘blue screen’. Then that happened more and more frequently so into the shop it went. Luckily, it was under warranty. Two weeks later I get it back – new hard drive and mother board.

That lasted for all of three weeks at best, or worst I guess, before it was totally being an SOB. Took it back, again. Went to get it two weeks later only to find out that, despite yet another new hard drive they couldn’t get it to accept the restore. They sent it back to the repair center. We’re now up to three hard drives if you count the original one. A month later, three days ago, they call to say they have it back – but – it’s still not working despite whole new insides.

So now I’ve got a brand new one, different model, same company to replace the old/new one.

Fingers definitely crossed – looking heavenward pleadingly – that this one lasts as long as my six-year-old one that I reverted back to in the interim.

            E.

This writer’s daily schedule (Aren’t you excited? –grinning-)

Wake up, hit the computer. (Not literally although there are days…But I digress)

Put water on for coffee. Check email while waiting for it to boil. You guessed it, instant coffee. The real stuff comes later.

Post to and check my web pages, and try to do a bit of promoting for my first published book.

Rescue teapot before the water boils away. Now I have coffee and am on my way to being awake. Check email again. Tag a friend I chat with every morning.

Now, finally, time to write; with luck without too many interruptions other than eventually fixing something for ‘brunch’ that doesn’t grease up my keyboard when I’m typing.

Early afternoon break for that real coffee. Walk up to the coffee shop, sit and read whatever paperback or hardback I’m on at the moment. On the way home I let my mind wander over what I’m writing. I often get some decent ideas that way on where to go next, or what new story I’d like to start.

Back to the computer. Edit, edit, edit what I’ve written in the last 24 then add to it. Intersperse that with chatting IM with friends. Break time again to try to hit a new level on the CRPG I’m playing (and replaying…it’s that sort of game) It really does help me to get away from what I’m working on and do something totally different.

Write/supper/chat/write. Sometimes I can actually multitask enough to do all three at once.

Another break to visit the chat site that I moderate for my Yahoo group.

After that’s over I concentrate on writing without interruption until my eyes blur or I’m yawning prodigiously. Then I fall into bed.

And that’s pretty much my schedule on a day to day basis. I’m anal enough (no raunchy comments from the peanut gallery) that I adhere to it fairly rigorously. Hell, it works for me. I have a backlog of stories to prove it. And I plan to submit some of them to Silver, in time. 

E.

Congratulations to all the Silver Publishing LCR nominees

Best Historical Book-2010

   Comes an Outlaw by Rie McGaha (Silver)

   City of Brothers by Anel Viz (Silver)

Best Thriller/Romantic Suspense/Mystery Book-2010

   Blood Pond by DJ Manly (Silver)

Best GBLTQ Book-2010
   Lust and Fae by Joyee Flynn (Silver Publishing)

Best Science Fiction/Futuristic Book-2010

   Slave Auction by Stormy Glenn (Silver)

Best Book Cover

   Oracle by RJ Scott (Silver)

   Spencer's Secret by Joyee Flynn (Silver)

Best E-publisher- 2010
   Silver Publishing

Best Shape-shifter Book-2010

   The Cat's Meow by Stormy Glenn (Silver)

Best Vampire Book
   Love's Indecision (Warrior Camp#2) by Joyee Flynn (Silver)

   Investments in Blood (Clans & Covens #2) by GA Endless (Silver)

Best Series

   Ancient Prophecy Series by Leiland Dale (Silver)

   Wolf Harem Series by Joyee Flynn (Silver)

WIP

Lies and Misunderstandings - Chapter One

“Someone’s cruising for a bruising,” Émile growled, whapping his sibling upside the head rather more forcefully than necessary.

“Hey now, what was that for?” Peter leapt to his feet, fight or flight warring for supremacy.

“You were supposed to let me know when you were going out. Somehow you seemed to have forgotten.”

With a shrug, Peter rubbed the side of his head. “So I wanted a bit of time to myself. Shoot me.”

Émile snorted. “As if that would do any good.” He plopped down in the chair Peter had been using, kicking his feet up onto the edge of the table, his hands laced behind his head. “So where did you go?”

“The museum.”

“Again, Peter?” Émile said. He hoped that his dismay didn’t show on his face.

“I like to look at my father’s paintings. Sue me.”

“Sue you, shoot you. Make up your mind, youngster,” Émile told him with a laugh.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Either/or, just quit smacking me every time you get pissed. You almost gave me a concussion this time.”

“Your head’s too hard for that.” Émile turned grave then. “Some night you’re going to run into one of the guards. Then what?”

“I avoid them? It’s not like I can’t you know.”

“True enough I guess. I just—I’m responsible for you now that Jonas is  gone, like it or not, and I take that seriously.”

“I’m more than old enough to take care of myself, thank you very much. When are you going to accept that?”

“Never,” Émile muttered softly. And he wouldn’t because he wanted nothing more than to keep his sibling close to him forever. Letting him go was not, as far as he was concerned, an option; now or ever.

Rambling...

After answering numerous interview questions recently, at which I suspect I pretty much suck, it occurred to me to think about why I write. There’s always the pat answer – “Because I have to” – said with dramatic angst as if I’m driven to write. To some extent that’s the truth of course. No one, myself included, would write if they didn’t have some sort of drive to put words down on ‘paper’, whether it be fiction or non-fiction. Well, unless they’re still in school and haven’t any choice in the matter.

I’m lucky in that I can sit and write whenever the spirit moves. I’ll get a ‘what if’ idea and take it from there. Strangely enough it’s only been in the last four or five years, that I really began to do that. Before then, if anyone had suggested I could tell a story and make it something people would read and enjoy I’d have told them they were out of their ever-loving minds.

Here’s the thing though; once I wrote that first one and discovered that people did like it, it was as if a whole new ‘me’ was born. I’ve always been creative, to wit the fact that I designed and made costumes for most of my adult life. But I’ve never considered myself an artist. I’ve dabbled in this and that, painting, carving, making silver jewelry, all of which fulfilled a need in me to create, just as the costuming did.

Never however did I have the drive and imagination that it takes to sit down and write. Or I didn’t think that I did until I started. Now it’s an all-consuming passion. Okay, that sounds very, what, pretentious? It’s the truth however. I love to take a character through from start to finish, seeing what happens to them in the process. And believe me, when I start I often have no clue where they’re going to end up. Sometimes they have their HEA, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they even die at the end. The shock value of that last is fun to pull off. *grinning*

It’s the same with a plot. I can begin at the beginning, with a vague idea of where I want it to go, and end up at total right angles from where I’d planned. And yet I still end up with something that works, or so I’ve been told by those who’ve read my writings.

I’m not certain all of this rambling answers the question of why I write. I suppose, ultimately, it’s because I like entertaining my readers with a great variety of ideas, characters and adventures. So there it is. In the end it comes down to being able to give people some small pleasure, and a couple of hours where they can leave their real life behind and immerse themselves in someone else's life, that makes what I do worthwhile to me; and hopefully to my readers.

End of rambling. For now at least.

Guess this makes it official -grinning-

http://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/everyone-s-man-p-185

A Paean to a great friend -

     Maybe it’s just because this is all new to me, my first book comes out in a little over a month from now, but I’m beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. At least the final edits are finished. That went very easily, much more so than I’d expected, thanks to my wonderful editor at Silver Pub.

     It’s the rest that’s got me wondering when the h*ll I’m going to be able to concentrate on my writing again. I’m very lucky to have a good friend in Hales, who keeps not only prodding and pushing me into the promoting but also has given me invaluable advice along the way. Without her I’d either be sitting here like a dumb cluck wondering what to do, or pulling my hair out trying to figure out ‘do I do this first, or that, or just run screaming for cover’.

     So, thanks Hales for everything. Love you, gorgeous. – E.

My world in four parts?

     Physically I suppose that works.

     Part one was Cleveland, well to be technically correct Cleveland Heights, where I was born and grew up, the oldest of five children. Normal life, normal sibling rivalries, just—totally normal.

     A side step from there to college, where I majored in scene design, and in the process took a play writing course. That was the first time I found out that I could write something other than research papers and was actually fairly good at writing fiction. It took years though before I tried again.

     Then, back to Cleveland where I interned at a local theater and discovered my true ‘calling’ as a costumer.

     Part two, New York City. Doesn’t ever aspiring theater person end up there at some point in their life? Well maybe not every one but—So, anyway, I discovered the joys of restaurant work. ‘Joys’ said with a definite note of sarcasm. I did manage to find one job in my field, working wardrobe at an Off Broadway theater. I left the city three years later after a short and very disastrous affair when the fight or flight syndrome kicked in and I chose flight.

     Part three, I landed in Chicago via Vista, where I worked at a home for character disordered boys for three years. That was a totally amazing experience, one I’ll never regret.

     Part four. I decided it was time to leave Chicago and move on, so I headed to Denver where I’ve been ever since. I found the perfect job, as the designer for a costume shop in the heart of the city. I met someone, and true to form it turned out to be a disaster. The one saving grace was our son. After the inevitable breakup I became a single parent, and didn’t do too badly at it if I do say so myself, despite a few flubs along the way. He turned into a quite wonderful young man and may, eventually, settle down with his present girlfriend.

     It was only very recently that I considered trying my hand at writing again. Now I’m addicted. I love the creation process, pulling from past experiences and the people I’ve known write primarily male/male ‘romances’. Some are theater oriented, many, in fact most of them involve some sort of mystery or suspense element, and they seem to break about 60/40 between reality oriented and the supernatural.

    Finally, I took the very frightening step of submitting one of them to a publisher and was amazed and elated when Silver Publishing accepted Colin’s story, ‘Everyone’s Man’.

   And that, for the moment at least, is my world.

Gareth Thomas interview

Everyone's Man

The unofficial blurb for my first book, 'Everyone's Man':


Colin Wilcox, a male whore who only handles clients of the same sex, is gang-raped while on the job. Needing medical attention, he's taken to the local ER and is befriended by one of the doctors. While he's recovering physically, reoccurring flashbacks of the attack provide small images of his brutal rape and he’s forced by Detective Keyes to handle the emotional fallout of being victimized.

Detective Keyes, a rape victim himself, is assigned to solve the crime. When a second boy is gang-raped under what appears to be similar circumstances, he needs Colin‘s help to catch the perpetrators. In the process, he tries to use his own personal experience to help Colin understand he’s not to blame for what happened.  

A slow, but sure, friendship unfolds between the two men that blossoms into love, stunted by the traumatic event.  When the perpetrators are finally in custody,  Colin has to move forward, and the next battle is underway. He must learn to lower the barriers that will allow him to let Detective Keyes into his life for both mental and physical support. Only then will the two men be able to consummate their tender passion.

Blogging is not my thing. However, if I get inspired this is the where I'll do it I guess. Lame, lame, lame, I know, but I'm a writer, not a talker. -smiling wryly-

E.