From the Witchcraft of Writing to 14th Century Medieval England, C.L. Foster is back today for another Fourth-Wall Friday. Being a medievalist I always get a bit of a giggle when I get to play in the realm. Grab a coffee, tea or a glass of meade and yell… HUZZAH! Then… read and enjoy! Please let C.L. Foster know how you liked it!
I have had this interview in my save for an AWESOME DAY for quite some time. Considering this week the Cold War is all over the news (Veteran’s Day and more) I decided today was the AWESOME DAY! I want to welcome one of the sweetest most awesome, fun, festive, exciting, supportive, feel good human beings and authors I have met this year…The original Cold War Princess, Victoria Dougherty
She is pretty fabulous, and she has a very interesting personal story and is well versed at weaving very amazing tales! Welcome Victoria! Sit down, have a cup of coffee and let’s show these folks just how awesome you are!
Oh wait, I really want to stress going and liking her page and trolling through her photos. She posts black and whites and often with some awesome descriptions, for example one of my favorites (we both love noir so I giggled a lot at this)
Cafe Noir: Take sip. Inhale deeply on cigarette. Keep your eye on the guy in the raincoat who keeps looking at you over his newspaper.
CG – Introduce yourself to the captive audience that you now have before you. (As in tell us something NOT in your bio, give us a dirty little secret not having or having to do with your writing)
If you’ve read my blog, you know I come from the ultimate Cold War family – daring escapes, backyard firing squads, Communist snitches, bowlfuls of goulash, gargoyles, spies, killers and dangerous pursuits. All of these are part of my recent family history and go a long way in explaining why I write Cold War thrillers.
I also love to drink rye whiskey, will eat anything with butter and cream as ingredients, and have an illogically happy marriage. I wrote erotica when it wasn’t cool to do so. I miss Christopher Hitchens every day. And I’m a devout Catholic. None of these facts feel contradictory to me.
She is also into black and white photography, goes with the noir soul (as mentioned about) here are a few examples from her site. One is of a bone church which really does exist.
CG – Is there a genre, other than the one you currently write in, that you wish you could break into? (If you want you can – I would love it if you did – a max flash fiction of no more that 500 with the prompt of “LIGHT” since summer is almost here (Yes this could work with romance, mystery, humour, textbooks on quantum physics.. own it, title it and GO!)
YA! Although I probably have a pretty sick romance in me.
*clearing throat* Me.. me … me … me … me… me… meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee *singing* oh wait.. SPACE opera… my bad! Sorry guys *grabbing my coffee! Welcome Corinne! Let’s get to business, it is a grand day and a fine day when I can have a wonderful Science Fiction author on board breaking into her Fourth-Wall and literally into a universe! Join me in not only having her on for Fourth-Wall but for the pre-Tour stop (her official tour starts on October 1st!)
Write a space opera, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
What they failed to include in the colorful, glossy brochure that came with my ‘So You Want To Be A Writer’ introductory kit were the strange things that can happen once you start taking your created Universe a little too seriously. Odd things. Things that leave you questioning what’s real and what’s just in your head. They also failed to explain how to make those voices in your head shut the fark up so you can get some actual writing done without the ongoing commentary from the peanut gallery.
Yeah, I said it. Peanut gallery. I expect some sort of retaliation from them later, but I’m on my fifth cup of coffee and all bets are off. It’s payback time and I’m breaking all the rules.
So, here I sit, feet dangling off the edge of a cargo pod that has my butt sore from sitting on it too long, waiting for them to arrive. They’re late, as expected. I wrote them that way, after all. Captain ‘Floppy-hair’ Hankarron Eros couldn’t arrive on time if his life depended on it.
Come to think of it, it actually has, once or twice, but I always seem to find a way to write him out of it using Ethan or Tara. Maybe I should stop saving his butt so he can learn the importance of punctuality and my butt can stop being so damn sore. Actually, that gives me ideas…
Dammit, I knew I should have brought my notepad. Who brings a notepad into a lucid dream, though?
“Ow!” I grab my arm and rub away a sharp pain from the skin, turning to find a playfully observant smirk set beneath a pair of sapphire blue eyes. They’re eyes I’d know anywhere, and that lopsided smile is something I never have a problem visualizing as I put it to paper. “Was that your idea of a hello, Ethan?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re awake.” Ethan observes me openly for a long moment, his Mechatronic eyes focusing in and out. “Jehdra warned Hank about being late, but you know,”
“Know Hank,” I finish the sentence with him and give a sighing roll of the eyes. He stands up to his full height and I get a real idea of just how tall six feet and ten inches equals. I bite my bottom lip to keep from whistling at the Mechatronic Automaton. He’s impressive, and I’m not just saying that because I’m responsible for his creation.
Okay, so maybe there’s a little pride in there, but can you really blame me? He’s exquisite. A work of engineering genius.
Hankarron, on the other hand…
Happy Va-Jay-Jay Coffee
I recently discovered this new coffee that folks have been seeing me go on and on about it. I won’t go and tell you exactly just what body parts it makes me happy but it does give me a complete body-gasm. But I am always willing to try others and I had not had a good cup of coffee in San Francisco in a while and since it was Friday I decided to take advantage of of my Fourth-Wall machine and flash on down for some delicious caffeinated goodness. I opened my eyes and saw a bright red can of Coke and a woman with one eyebrow raised looking at me as I clutched the carabinger with my dinged up travel mug swinging.
“Hey, I need coffee!” I said defensively
“So does my husband. Me? Just give me Coke, and I am happy.. or a glass of wine.” she said with a crooked smile.
I glanced over and saw a good looking man with sun streaked hair with a glow about him. Something seemed familiar about him, maybe he was on one of those new paranormal shows? I needed coffee but the line was moving to slow and I was being distracted by his odd behavior. He was writing a note out in very controlled strokes and looking like he was trying to hard.
“Thulu, she is going to have to believe it is from us, if you make it look to perfect she won’t buy it!“
Ohhhhh man I jumped right into this weeks Fourth-Wall Friday and I was getting first peek at Maer Wilson’s Private Investigating Team La Fi and Thulu… Oh gosh, I think Maer is going to need more than one glass of wine when she sees the note!
*pssssssssssssssssssssst — Just in case this is all a dream, Maer wants to make sure you guys know she created these guys and is giving away copies of the short story, Ghost Memory to two folks and to one lucky person the full novel Relics and the short Ghost Memory of The Thulukan Chronicles. Enter the Rafflecopter below, and make sure you answer the comment entry, this is a FUN one!*
The Impossible Thulukans
The invitation was impossible on all levels. Impossible to have received. Impossible to ignore. Someone’s idea of a joke? A brief note, with an address in San Francisco and a round trip plane ticket from Las Vegas.