Fred is a writer living in Minnesota near Stillwater. His first self-published book, Ferris’ Bluff, has received numerous 5 star reviews from US, UK, and Australian readers. His next offering, The Storm Glass, is quite different from the small town thiller he introduced in August of this year.

When not writing you can find Fred working in his woodworking shop or fishing the beautiful St. Croix River north of Stillwater.

What is the best writing advice you ever received?
The best writing advice I ever received was from a guy named Chuck Logan. Chuck has been a solid mid-list writer for over a decade with 10 very good thrillers to his name.

He told me, several years ago, as I was showing off my first book–a dreadful 140K word mess of a book, that the most important thing in writing was the story. He said that no amount of technique, tricky stuff, or fancy language would make a bad book better. The story itself, the main plotline running thru the narrative is the one most important thing about being a good writer as opposed to a mediocre or bad one.

Keep the story fixed foremost in your mind as you create the narrative, and you’ll do fine…as long as you have a great story to tell.

What advice would you give a new writer?
To someone who tells me excitedly that they’re writing their first book I tend to shrug and say, “that’s nice.” Except in very rare cases that first book is a practice book. I’m talking about fiction here as I know absolutely nothing about the non-fiction side of the bookstore.

‘New’ writers have absolutely no idea what lies in front of them.

I advise new writers to seek out a critique group or a small batch of friends who would honestly tell them what they think of the book early on. I tell them that they need to grow a thick skin regarding criticism, and listen to what people say. I tell them their first book is probably going to suck. I tell them to ask questions in writing forums. I tell them it’s okay to shelve that first book before it’s complete and move on to a second one, because if they’re learning about the craft at a rapid rate, it might be better to start over.

Once you’ve got the bug it’s hard to shake.

What steps do you take in starting a new book?
I don’t buy any of this ‘muse’ crap. When someone tells me their ‘muse’ is speaking to them I want to slap ‘em!

For me, the idea for a new book can come from anywhere. Often I’ll read something in the newspaper and it will stick with me and become the germ of a story.

Last year, no…two years ago, I read a story about the 50th anniversary of Buddy Holly’s death in a plane crash in Iowa. At the time I was chewing on the idea of writing a novel in the Young Adult genre because they seemed to be attracting agents and selling better than the thrillers I was writing.

I imagined what that night must have been like when Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper thought they were so lucky to find a plane to fly them out of the blizzard. One thing led to another and I found myself with a story to tell. At the core, Holly’s beloved Stratocaster didn’t perish with him. It ended up a small town in Iowa, lost to the world. Not interesting enough…but what if that town lived in a digital dead zone? What if it was an analog island in the midst of a digital world? Getting more interesting…

Now it was time to start putting the book together. A lot of people tell you they write by the seat of their pants and let the story tell itself. I don’t do that.

What I did next was sit down and write the story. By that I mean I literally told the story to myself on paper–no dialogue–no fancy punctuation or convention–I just wrote out the story complete with sidebars detailing character traits, research notes, what ifs, whole sections deleted occassionally. It ran close to 100 pages, but when I sat down to write THE BOOK, I had a guideline and confidence that I wouldn’t be wasting a lot of time and energy.

The book, which I’ve titled DODGE, is in Beta now and I think I’m going to actually query it early next year.

When do you find it best to write?
I like to write early in the day. I’m usually up around 5:00. I read the paper, have some coffee, and settle in to write by 6:00 when I’m working on a draft. I used to write for 8 hours or so at a time but I’,ve learned that 4 ir so is enough. The writing is usually better with out pushing so hard, and I save time on the editing end by maintaining some discipline.

How long have you been writing?
I’ve been writing pretty much full time for 6 years, now. I retired early and decided this was a better thing to do than start a new business or work for someone else.

How many books, and in which genre, have you written?
In 6 years I’ve written 6 full length novels. It doesn’t take a year to write a book, but when you add in editing time, querying time, research time, and having a life away from the computer, that’s what I’ve been able to produce. I guess you could call it my back-list, but here’s a short list of my body of work:

Sneak Thief (2005), a thriller with a sci-fi twist. Originally weighing in at 160K words, it was a fun practice book to write.

Falling to Pieces (2006) Another thriller. Another practice book. New writers–NEVER base your book on a current event that won’t hold up to historical interest/significance.

Big Muddy Mess (2006/07) A sequel to Sneak Thief which took on a life of its own. Now the anchor for a series which will come out in November (I hope!)

First Murder (2007/08) Murder Mystery. I wanted to see If I could do a real whodunit. I didit. Look for it yet this year or early in 2012. It has real series potential too.

Ferris’ Bluff (2009/10/11) Available through Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, and all sorts of other e-outlets and in trade paperback through Amazon and Twin City independent bookstores. International 5 star reviews. A thriller.

Dodge (2010/11) YA, but…well…it ended up being a thriller too. Currently in Beta.

What are you currently working on writing?
Right now I’m swamped with promo work for Ferris’ Bluff and final edits for The Storm Glass, but I’ve got a story churning… a sequel to Storm Glass…I’m hoping to get to it this winter.

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Sixteen year-old Kara Nightingale’s ordinary life is suddenly turned upside-down when she dies in a freak accident, and she wakes up in a strange new world with a new career—as a rookie for the Guardian Angel Legion. Kara hurtles towards dangerous missions with the help of her Petty Officer and friend, David.

It’s going to take a miracle to save the Legion, and Kara’s luck has just run out…

Kim has been kind enough to provide us with a sample from this story:

Mat laughed. “Are you serious? It’s bad enough that your mom sees spirits and demons. If you start believing in all that, they’ll lock you up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Remind me why you’re my best friend again?” Kara decided to drop the subject. She focused on the gallery sign as she ran. “Okay—I can see you now.”

Mat was leaning against the gallery’s brick exterior. His head was turned toward the glass doors. He pulled his cigarette from his lips and blew smoke into his phone’s receiver. “I think it’s starting. Hurry up!”

Kara felt her cheeks burn. Her heart pounded in her ears and muffled the sounds around her. She took a deep breath, hoping it would calm the fluttering in her stomach, and she sprinted onto Saint Laurence Boulevard. Her cell phone slipped out of her hand. It hit the pavement.

“Crap!” Kara crouched down to grab her phone.

A flicker of movement appeared in the corner of her eye.

“WATCH OUT!” Someone shouted. She stood up and turned around.

A city bus hurtled towards her. She stared, transfixed. The bus kept coming.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

An arm reached out to her. She saw a split second image of two monstrous head lights.

And then it hit.

Thirteen tons of cold metal crushed her body. She didn’t feel any pain. She didn’t feel anything at all.
Everything around her went black.

A moment later, Kara was standing in an elevator.

At first, streaks of white light obscured her vision. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. She shook her head. The elevator was elegant—three sides appeared to be made of handcrafted cherry panels decorated with golden-wing crests. The smell of moth balls lingered in the air, like her grandma’s dusty old closet. When her eyesight improved, she realized she wasn’t alone.

On a wooden chair, facing the elevator’s control panel, covered in black fur, and wearing a pair of green Bermuda shorts, from which protruded two hand-like callused feet—sat a monkey.

It spun on its seat, wrapped its feet around the backrest of the chair, opened its coconut-shaped mouth and said—in a British accent—“Hello, Miss.”

Kara’s jaw dropped, and she swallowed the urge to cry out.

His hairless face crinkled into a grin, so that he looked like an oversized walnut. His square head sat directly on powerful shoulders. He raised his chin and looked down upon Kara. His yellow eyes mesmerized her. She couldn’t look away.

After a minute, Kara was able to force some words out of her mouth.

“H…hey there, little talking-monkey-person,” she croaked. “How’s it going?”

Her throat was dry. She tried to swallow, but all she could do was contract her throat muscles.

The monkey frowned. Then he growled. “I’m not a monkey, Miss. I’m a chimpanzee! You mortals are all the same. Monkey-this—monkey-that. Might as well call me a dog!” A splatter of spit hit Kara’s face as the words escaped his lips.

Kara retched as she wiped the spit from her face. It was yellowish green and smelled like a bad case of gingivitis.

“Ah…sorry, monk—chimpanzee.”

She rubbed her hand on her blue jeans. “Gross! This is really nasty—it’s all sticky!”

The chimp glared at Kara with disdain. “Chimp Number 5M51, if you please.”

He then began to scratch his behind and only stopped once he noticed Kara’s disgusted expression.
“You’ll be arriving at your destination momentarily.” And with that, he turned his attention back to the control panel—hands away from his butt.

Gradually, Kara began to feel more awake, as though she had woken from a long sleep. Reality slowly crawled back in. She bit her lower lip as she told herself to think.

“Um, what destination? Where are we going?” she asked.

Chimp 5M51 turned his head and smiled, exposing rows of crooked yellow teeth. His eyes locked onto hers. “To Orientation, of course. Level One.”

“Orientation?”

“Yes. All mortals who have passed must go through Orientation. That’s where you’re going.” Chimp 5M51 clamped his feet around the edges of the chair and extended an abnormally long arm in the direction of the elevator’s control pane. He pointed to the brass buttons.

Kara leaned over for a better view. The panel read:

1. Orientation
2. Operations
3. Miracles Divisions
4. Hall of Souls
5. Department of Defense
6. Council of Ministers
7. The Chief

“OUCH!” cried Kara, “Hey—what the—?”

Chimp 5M51 had picked a flake of dry scalp off Kara’s head. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed. “Mmmmh. My apologies, I couldn’t help myself. I am a primate, after all.”

“Freak,” mumbled Kara crossly, as she rubbed her scalp.

A feeling of dread slowly rose up inside her. “This—this doesn’t make sense. I—I’m dreaming. This is a dream!”

Kara shut her eyes and pressed her back against the elevator wall, trembling. “It can’t be happening. It just can’t! I need to wake up now!”

“You’re dead, Miss.”

Kara opened her eyes. The word dead echoed in her ears. The weight of his words started to pull her under. She fought against the sick feeling of panic.

“I’m not dead!” she hissed, “I’m right here, you stupid BABOON!”
“—Chimpanzee!” Spat Chimp 5M51. “Think what you must,” he said, as he lifted his chin. “But, think about this. Can you remember events before this elevator?”

Kara floundered, trying desperately to remember. Bits and pieces flashed inside her brain: a white light…metal… darkness…

The bus.

Kara dropped to her knees. The city bus had hit her—pulverized her core and crushed her like a tomato. But then she remembered something else, something that didn’t make any sense. It was coming back to her now, like a faded memory sharpening into a clear picture. It flicked before her eyes. She saw an arm reach out and touch her during the bus crash.

“See? You’re dead,” said the chimp, matter-of-factly.

She pressed her hand against the left side of her chest.

“Oh, my God! Oh my God!” Kara couldn’t feel a heartbeat. She pressed down on her rib cage. Nothing. She clasped her wrist. No pulse. No beating. No movement at all.

“See. No beating. No heart—you’re dead,” declared the chimp again.

But before she could start freaking out, she was thrown off balance as the elevator stopped abruptly.
“Level One. Orientation!” The chimp announced.

“Wait!” Kara pushed herself away from the elevator wall and wobbled up to the chimp. “I don’t understand. What’s Orientation?”

With his finger still on the button, he turned his head. “Orientation is where all the new GAs are categorized.”

Kara stared stupidly into chimp 5M51’s yellow eyes. “What are GAs?”

“Guardian Angels.”

“Huh?”

Kara heard the swish of doors opening. A hint of a smile reached the chimp’s lips. He raised his arm and pressed his hand on her back—

She flew out the elevator.

Kindle Version
Smashwords Version

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

What happens when you receive a guardian angel?
What if you don’t believe you need one?
What if one wants you removed?

There are people out there that want each of them for themselves. Someone who will stop at nothing to have Sterling. Someone who will do anything to reclaim Claire’s affections. Together, Sterling and Claire will dissuade them. Someone will fall. Someone will hurt. And others will…

Melissa has been kind enough to provide us with a sample from this story:

Looking over at the microwave, my eyes bug, my mouth drops open because I see that it is almost 7:20. You’ve got to be kidding me! Throwing my hands in the air and huffing a little, I get my cup and run back upstairs to get dressed. I have to be at school by 7:45! I have a tutoring lesson to give. I am TOTALLY going to be late!

I can help you with that. It said in a way that sent shivers running up my spine.

Shocked that I’m still hearing the voice I snap off a comment, “Yeah? How ya gonna do that? Magically zap me into my clothes, brush my teeth and comb my hair all at once?” And before I had my bedroom door closed I was all of those things. I dropped my cup, but it didn’t fall far. I backed up hard against my door and started to hyperventilate. “How……. What…… How…… did you…. do that?”

With a voice as smooth as silk the voice responded. I told you, I am here to see to your needs. You needed to be dressed and ready to walk out of the door. So, as you can see, you are. I swear I could almost hear a chuckle in the voice as it added, You also needed to not drop your cup, so I grabbed it before it spilled and made a mess.

“But how did you do it?” I ask staring down at myself then walking over to my mirror to look more closely. I have on a complete outfit. Shoes and all. Hair combed like I usually wear it. And I’m wearing make-up? I actually like the make-up, my lightly tanned skin looks flawless, my dark brown eyes seem bigger somehow, even my chestnut brown hair that I don’t usually take much time in really styling looks good. “I don’t normally wear make-up” I said breathily while gently touching my face.

That’s because you usually do not have the time to put in the effort. And to answer your first question, I have already answered your first question.

Turning from my mirror to see that the ‘cloud’ was still by my closet. Looking a little more solid, and not quite so big around, it shrank back down to about a beach ball size. I narrow my gaze and lower my tone a bit. “What?” then realizing that just didn’t seem to get across how upset that comment made me I almost squealed, “That didn’t answer anything! You just repeated yourself!”

I swear I could hear it chuckle. I already told you the answer to that question because you have already asked it once before.

Kindle Version
Nook Version

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Who would want to have tea with mushrooms, when it’s a hundred degrees and humid out? As Shelby and Shauna Kitt find out, quite a few people. These are, of course, people from Miriax, a planet in a different dimension where nothing and no one is anything like what the thirteen year-old brother and sister twins expect. On Miriax, lilac tea is served with explosive mushrooms, agitex leaves cure motion sickness, stick insects patrol the jungle, and library books carefully choose their readers, refusing to leave the shelf for anyone else. And, if you’re not careful, the walls spit on you. Shelby and Shauna’s lives change drastically when planet Miriax recruits them to seal a dimensional hole that allows Klodians – nasty aliens – to travel to Earth. In order to succeed in their mission, Shelby and Shauna discover skills they never thought they possessed, make friends they never expected to have, and face enemies they never imagined existed.

P.H.C. has been kind enough to provide us with a sample from this story:

Shelby and Shauna trailed, wide-eyed, behind Lendox.

“Grand Avenue,” he said, with a broad gesture. “The largest street on Valmorax.”

They were standing on an enormous branch, so thick that it could have easily fit the widest highway they had ever seen. Yet it was neither Shauna’s or Shelby’s idea of an avenue, for there were buildings of unusual shapes and colors scattered everywhere, as if no one on Miriax had ever heard of discreet colors, straight lines, or thru traffic. In fact, if there was such a thing as traffic – Shelby and Shauna saw several novians floating along in their water drop shapes – it had to go around and above the buildings, and above and below the hundreds of glass escalators that took pedestrians to nearby branches. To add to the confusion, a myriad of birds flew around, ignoring everything else but the multi-colored bugs that hovered distractedly and haphazardly everywhere. As Shelby and Shauna took it all in, a parrot-like blue and green bird with an orange beak, flying just a few feet in front of them, nearly crashed into a novian in water drop shape.

“As you can see,” said Lendox, as the novian water drop angrily attempted to swat the bird, “New York is not the only city with a lot of traffic.”

“It’d be awesome to be a cab driver here,” said Shelby.

“It takes thirty years to get a license,” said Lendox.

“Thirty years?” cried Shelby. “Who’d want to wait that long?”

“It is not that long for a novian,” said Lendox, nodding to a mirian man who went past them with a big smile on his face.

“Everyone’s smiling at us,” said Shauna, noticing that a whole set of pedestrians were looking at her and smiling cheerfully as she walked by.

“You may as well get used to it,” said Lendox. “It will be no different at the Grand Lodge.”

“There are hotels here?” asked Shelby.

“Of course,” replied Lendox. “Valmorax has many interplanetary visitors, as I am sure you will notice.”

Just then, a crab-looking being walked past them, uttering strange, low-pitched noises.

“How come he wasn’t smiling?” whispered Shauna.

“He was,” said Lendox. “That is how they smile on planet Krebs.”

“How come no one stops to talk to us?” asked Shelby.

“It is not polite to do so without an invitation,” explained Lendox. “You would have to start the conversation, since you are the guests on the planet. For now it is best to smile, and be on our way.”

“That’s brutal on the cheeks,” complained Shelby. “Can’t I just wave instead?”

Before Lendox could so much as utter a word, Shelby waved at a creature hovering near them with several tentacles.

“You can,” said Lendox, as the creature blew a puff of green cloud in their direction. “To the octonix species, however, that is considered quite rude, so we better walk quickly before the smell gets here.”

“He farted on us?” asked Shelby, shocked.

“She did,” corrected Lendox.

“At least she didn’t spit on you,” Shauna told her brother.

They hurried past the green cloud and stood across from a blue and brown mushroom big enough to fit a two-story brownstone in Manhattan.

“Is that a real mushroom?” asked Shelby.

“We do not have any fake ones on Miriax,” said Lendox.

“It’s so big, though,” muttered Shelby, touching the moist stem and quickly removing his hand. “And it’s moldy – ugh.”

“Of course it is,” said Lendox. “Not only is it a fungus, but it is also one of oldest buildings on Valmorax.”
Shelby looked up. The head of the mushroom had several round-shaped, randomly distributed windows that gave him the impression he was looking at a slice of Swiss cheese. Through the windows came the sound of chatter and excitement, and over the narrow entrance was a sign with letters hovering slightly in front:

Mushroom Tea House
Provider of the Finest Lilac Tea and Mushrooms in the Universe!

“What’s lilac tea?” asked Shauna, peeking up at the extremely narrow steps going up from the entrance.

“It is tea made out of a small flower that grows under certain mushrooms here on Valmorax,” explained Lendox.

“Can we take a look inside?” pleaded Shauna.

“By all means,” said Lendox.

Shauna rushed up the stairs: the almost impossibly narrow staircase opened up to a large, round room filled with tables so close together that she wondered how anyone could walk between them. Yet walk between them they did, for several mirians went back and forth, balancing little trays containing colorful glass pots and cups. Those sitting at tables seemed happy and excited, and everyone seemed to be eating bits and pieces of something Shauna couldn’t quite identify. As she stood there, she suddenly realized how hungry she was.

“What’s that stuff they’re eating?” she asked, seeing Lendox catch up with her.

“Mushrooms,” said Lendox. “We have over twenty thousand varieties on Valmorax.”

“Mushrooms with tea?” asked Shelby, disgusted. “That’s just not right.”

“They are quite delicious,” retorted Lendox, calmly. “Let us go in – your sister looks eager to try some.”

“Won’t everyone else be worried, though?” asked Shelby, hoping that this would be enough of a reason for them to leave – he did not like tea, and he definitely did not like mushrooms, so he could not understand why anyone would want to have both together.

“Flix is no doubt debriefing Astrax as we speak,” said Lendox. “If she were worried, she would have called me on the dedonix. Any more excuses for not going in?”

“Guess not,” mumbled Shelby, following Lendox and noticing that there were mushrooms as well as tiny yellow, pink, and red flowers sprouting all through the light blue wall. Why had he been so reluctant to go in? He admitted to himself that the place really was kind of cool – and where was that delicious smell coming from? . . .

Kindle Version
Nook Version

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

The Assassins’ Village by the acclaimed author, Faith Mortimer, introduces, Diana Rivers, writer, sometime actor and amateur sleuth.

The Assassins’ Village has many 4 and 5 star reviews on Amazon. In addition press reviewers include The Cyprus Weekly, Times of India, Grapevine, Flying Fish and The Hampshire Echo.

Faith has been kind enough to provide us with a sample from this story:

Cyprus. A Sunday in late August. Present day.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 1

If. Such a small word and yet… If only he had bothered to take a look at his actions. If he had cared one iota, maybe his life would not have been full of ego, lust, self-gratification and profligacy. Self-denial was unknown to him.

He awoke confused and disorientated, barely able to breathe, his throat obstructed. He heard a voice; soft and persistent, close to his ear. Struggling against the cotton wool seemingly stuffed in his brain, he forced open his eyes. The man squinted at the blinding light. He knew he was lying down. The agonising pain in his left leg intensified when he attempted to move it from its impossible angle. A pain as sharp as a new razor blade cut through him. He shrieked in alarm, realising his leg was broken.

The whispered voice spoke again. The man looked around him in sudden panic. Who and what was all this? And why couldn’t he function properly? He tried to speak, to answer the phantom voice, but his tongue couldn’t form the words. A sudden movement and a shadow fell across his face… Raising his head, his eyes widened as he remembered being pushed over the limestone cliff into the vineyard below. But that explained nothing. Struggling, the injured man raised himself into a sitting position to confront the shadow.

A firm hand, calloused and strong, pushed him back down. ‘Keep still. You can’t get up.’

The man recognised an accent. A trickle of blood rolled down between his dry, tortured lips and a thread of fear crept through him.

The shadow spoke in a rasping voice. ‘Soon you will see. You must pay for all you’ve done.’ The shadow hissed in his face. A breath that was hot and sour.

As the shadow bent closer the man gave a start and recoiled; he recognised his assailant. A deep chill spread through his gut despite the heat of the day. In terror, he fought at the cords binding his wrists. With desperation he cried out, spluttering through the soiled coarse cloth in his cheeks. The core of dread in his stomach spread like a foul growth of malignancy. His eyes pleaded mercy.

The shadow gave a laugh, shrill and mirthless. ‘Shall I forgive you? No. I think not. Never once have I seen you give kindness. You treat all like dogs at your feet. Well, you are dirt beneath mine.’

Abruptly the shadow withdrew and walked over to a low stonewall. It returned, carrying a pair of gloves and an old leather bag. The assailant drew on the gloves, before untying a thong at the neck of the receptacle. The man watched, beads of sweat sliding down his face, then he writhed in horror, as he realised what was being thrust before him. He twisted his head aside, gagging at the revolting sight; yelling deep in his throat. ‘No! No! Please! Oh God help me!’ His words were garbled and lost.

‘This is all your doing. Yours! Did you never think how you hurt me?’

As the victim stared with revulsion his throat gagged and he retched. Stomach churning, he felt a warmth spread beneath his loins. Screaming in panic he tried to pull away from the calm face of his attacker, only to realise that it was futile. The end, when it came, was swift, a thrust and a sharp twist. At first, there was no wound; then the blood flowed and grew like a blossom of deep red peonies spilling their petals to hiss upon the hot honey-coloured rock. Satisfied, the assassin bent down, removed the pretty blue scarab ring from the victim’s finger, placed it in the bag and walked away without another look.

But of course, this is a later scene – let the play begin…

Kindle Version
Smashwords Version

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Visit me at http://www.marypathyland.com

How long have you been writing?
Since childhood. I began writing a novel after graduation from college. Spent 15 years as a journalist which was a great way to hone writing skills.

What is the last book you read?
Stephen King’s “Under The Dome”, an amazing work.

How many books, and in which genre, have you written?
I have written five, three are published already. “The Terminal Diner” comes out in June and the third book in the Maeve Kenny series comes out in December. I also have several short stories written that I may compile into a book one of these days.

What is the best writing advice you ever received?
There’s an old Irish saying: Listen to the music of the river and you will catch fish. That applies to writing dialogue, especially. You have to listen to and emulate the music, the cadence of real life dialogue to make your characters sing.

What do you most enjoy about writing?
I enjoy creating characters so vivid that readers tell me they miss them when they finish the book.

What advice would you give a new writer?
Don’t stop to edit a first draft. Just keep plowing ahead so you can get the gist of the story out. It won’t always make sense, but you set out the frame for building up the story and that is key. A great way to instill this technique is by participating in National Novel Writing Month in November. Every day you have a word goal to reach to ensure that you complete a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. Believe me, there is always time (and room) for editing once the first draft is done.

What is the most important thing you have learned about writing?
A writer is just like an athlete. You must “work out” every day to stay in shape and give your best performance. It doesn’t have to be your work in progress. I think something as simple as tweeting every day is a good exercise because you have to focus on getting out a clear message with 140 characters.

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

“I’ve been creative all my life and have always striven for outlets to express it. I’ve tried strict Fine Arts, including drawing, painting and sculpture. I’ve tried graphic arts, illustration and animation, and I’ve had a measure of success in all of them. The one form of expression I feel the most comfortable and immersed in is writing. I’ve grown up all over Canada and Greece. I’ve moved every year of my formative school years so I’m pretty solitary and have always relied on myself for my entertainment and feedback. I’m no longer alone and live with my wife, 3 cats and a dog in eastern Canada.”

Now on to the interview:

Where do you generally prefer to go when you write?
I can write anywhere, but I need total concentration. I can’t have music or other distractions. I have a day job where I can do a lot of the preliminaries and promotional parts of indie authorship. Yet when it comes down to doing the grunt work of pulling the tale out of my head I need quiet. I can do my job, graphics and video editing listening to music, or watching some television, or documentaries on my computer and have no problems with concentration. Writing, however, is totally distracting. I can’t do anything else. I can’t listen to music, or watch anything on computer. So it’s difficult to find a place to concentrate on it. It’s getting better, though because I can work on the train on my way to and back from work.

How long have you been writing?
I’ve been writing most of my life. Since early high school. I was enthralled by fantasy, sword and sorcery creators like Michael Moorcock, Robert E Howard and comics. I wanted to elicit that type of wonder.

Tell us three random things about yourself.
1- I’m a Howard Stern fan in the truest definition of the word. I listen to him every day and love every minute of his show. I haven’t missed it since I first heard him when he was broadcast in Montreal in 1998.

2- I can cook, and can do it well. I’ve been doing so since I was 12 years old and learned everything I could in my family’s restaurant.

3- I am a fully independent adult, i.e. I can mend my own clothes, wash them and myself without help or supervision. I clean, vacuum, do windows, mop, feed the animals, clean the litter-box, walk the dog. I don’t need anybody to do anything I can’t, because I can do it all.

Do you prefer to write on a laptop or a desktop computer?
I don’t have a specific preference. Although there are different fortes that I’ve noticed I exhibit in different modes of writing. Desktop or iPad are good for pure revision and/or outlining the plot, however, I’ve found I’m at my most creative when I’m writing in longhand. That’s right you read correctly, I write it out first and then transpose it to computer and revise, revise, revise.

What are you currently working on writing?
I’m currently working on the sequel to “Mad Gods” titled “Commitment”. It is part of a series titled Predatory Ethics. “Mad Gods” deals with my first experiences with religion: contemporary Christianity with its champion the Catholic Church, and its opposite with its favorite Luciferian or Satanism. Sequels will have Adam as the now universal Saviour, deal with Paganism, Buddhism, Islam, Hindu, Shinto and throughout there will always be the Illuminati and Dark Nobility.

What motivates you to write?
I want to tell “Mad Gods”. I know there are many writers who do write in different genres and have a facility in imparting a narrative for an audience of readers, but I’m not that guy. I want to tell this story, I’m currently not interested in telling another. There are many themes and beliefs in “Mad Gods” I am compelled to get out.

When do you find it best to write?
I’m a morning person. Well not bright and cheery, “I might rise, but I won’t shine”, but I can get TONS done in the morning if you just leave me alone to do it. That’s when my mind is closest to subconscious and I have the shortest trip to get to what I’ll need to write.

What is the most important thing you have learned about writing?
Stay in your own voice. Tailoring your voice to suit somebody else is folly. Sometimes I question my voice, I think am I like those delusional fools on American Idol who believe they can sing but sound like they’re strangling a cat? Am I fooling myself? Then I read a few paragraphs of what I’ve written and I feel better about my delusions.

How many drafts do you usually have before deciding it’s done?
I don’t count drafts. I keep going until I feel that it’s done enough to be seen. I can’t keep going until I think it’s perfect because I’d never put anything out. I’d keep polishing and revising, and polishing. No F. Scott Fitzgerald am I.

What would you do differently if you we just starting out today to become a writer?
I would’ve gone the indie route quicker. I wouldn’t have wasted years trying to get an agent, and waited for rejection after rejection. Then get a tepid interest, then be strung along and get another rejection. Then enthusiasm followed by bitter disappointment. So far the indie route has proven to be nothing but gravy.

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Faith was born in Manchester and was educated in Singapore, Malaya and Hampshire, England. She qualified as a Registered nurse and after some years changed careers to oversee a number of travel and sport related companies.

She is happily married to Chris and together they have four children. Once the children began to attend University, Faith decided to join them in reading for a Science degree. Faith obtained her Honours Science degree with The Open University in 2005 and says that the dedication and stamina needed to sit for a degree gave her the confidence to finish writing her first novel. She achieved this and January 2009 saw the publication of “The Crossing”. This novel is based on a true incident and Faith thoroughly enjoyed the six months or so research that went into the book and the later 18 months writing and editing.

“The Crossing” is available in paperback and Kindle format on Amazon. In 2011 Faith finished writing her second novel; a murder mystery set in the Troodos mountains of Cyprus where Faith spends the majority of her time.

Now on to the interview:

How long have you been writing?
I’ve always been interested in writing and at an early age subjected my younger sisters to listening to stories that I’d written. A career, husband and family got in the way of serious writing, until the children left to attend Uni. I decided the time was right to take my own degree. The literature course was full but Science had a vacancy! I began studying and adored it. Once I’d completed my degree with a good pass I realise that I now had the patience, dedication, stamina and new-found confidence to finish that book!

How many books, and in which genre, have you written?
“The Crossing” is my first published novel. I have now completed my second, “The Assassins’ Village”, which I published late April this year. I write in more than one genre. My first book “The Crossing” is an action/adventure/romance with a WW2 connection. My second book “The Assassins’ Village” is a murder mystery (voted best book in November 2010 on Harper Collins/Authonomy site), and my current one that I’ve just started will be a drama/thriller set in Malaya during the 1950’s and 1960’s.

What inspired you to become a writer?
I was inspired to write the first book one evening during a dinner party. A good friend was telling us about his recently passed away father and his heroic exploits during World War Two. His tale involved being a prisoner of war in Germany and Poland and of his many escapes from the prison-camps. Sixty years later he had a telephone call from the US and the caller had in their hands a bible that had belonged to him during the war and he now wanted to return it to the family. The story was fascinating and I felt shivers run down my spine as I knew I had found the story that I simply had to write. My second book “The Assassins’ Village” was taken from a small village in Cyprus where I now live. The colourful characters in my book represent some of the characters from that village – but fictitious of course!

What do you most enjoy about writing?
I love the research and then plotting the initial story-line. As I draw my characters I begin to really get involved and the story takes over part of my life. I enjoy being as one with the tale.

What issues or challenges do you struggle with the most?
I struggle with grammar and often go along with well-wishers who disagree with some of which I’ve written. For example, these days people try to lay down rules on how to write. I see and agree that there must be basic guidelines but, reading many books written by well-known authors time and time again I come across these so-called ‘rules’ that they have broken. Perhaps, once you’re famous and established then you can call the tune!

When do you find it best to write?
My writing process does differ. Ideally, I like to write first thing in the morning. I aim for at least 1000 words. I write for as long as I can and then leave off writing for that day on a good note, with an unfinished part. That way, the next time I pick up the MS I can immediately pick up and carry on. I do not read what I’ve written that day until a day later. My first draft is hand-written and then I put it all on my laptop. This, I count as my first (of many) edits.

What advice would you give a new writer?
For aspiring authors, I will say – just do it! It doesn’t matter if what you write is not good. If you feel a need to get your thoughts/story down on paper then go ahead. Improvement will come with time and practice. Not everyone is a best seller but the need to write can be overwhelming.

Tell us three random things about yourself.
Three random things about myself:
1) I spent part of my childhood in Singapore and Malaya (now Malaysia)
2) I am a qualified Yacht Master
3) I adore the stage and spend time taking part in musicals and straight plays. This year we’re performing Romeo and Juliet in the open-air amphitheatre in Limassol.

Who is your favorite author?
I don’t have just one writing influence as I read such a diverse spread of type of literature.

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Heather is an independent fiction novelist and avid bibliophile with the library to prove it. She is the author of paranormal mystery “The Temple”, fantasy/romance novel “Abigail”, and upcoming chick lit “Constant State of Disaster”. Her current projects include a horror novel with a ghostly protagonist, a collection of paranormal romance short stories, and the first in a new witchcraft series. A practicing Witch, Heather lives in North Central Kentucky with a house full of animals and the love of her life–all of whom drive her crazy.

Now let’s get to the interview:

Where do you generally prefer to go when you write?
I prefer going somewhere with a bit of background grumble and a lot of coffee, like Starbucks or Panera. But, I moved into my boyfriend’s home several months ago and we don’t have those on our end of town So, I end up writing at the kitchen table.

How long have you been writing?
Since I was about ten years old. My mother was promoted within the local police department and began working 4 pm to midnight. I was a really responsible child–all cops’ kids end up being either really great human beings or rebels who end up with criminal histories–so I stayed home alone. I’d ride the bus home from school, lock up and set the alarm, and was pretty self-sufficient. After some time, though, I became bored. At ten, I didn’t really like television (still don’t) and I didn’t have the money to buy new books, so I started writing my own. I wrote 6 full length novels between ten and sixteen.

What is the last book you read?
I’m just a few pages from the end of Alan Nayes’ “Barbary Point”, a lovely romance novel by a very kind and supportive indie.

How many books, and in which genre, have you written?
I am a multi-genre author, luckily. I have two full-length novels out, The Temple (a paranormal mystery) and Abigail (a fantasy/romance). Both of my free short stories published are horror. My upcoming novel Constant State of Disaster is chick lit–it will be out before the end of August.

Who is your favorite author?
Jennifer Crusie. She’s funny, she’s smart, and she’s incredibly kind, as well as having a crooked sense of humor and an attitude. She’s my hero.

Tell us three random things about yourself.
I’m a police dispatcher.
The pinkie finger of my left hand is fused, meaning it will never bend again. I shattered it in Karate (I’m a black belt).
I love vegetable and herb gardening.

Do you prefer to write on a laptop or a desktop computer?
I am a laptop girl all the way. I love the versatility it provides; if I want to write outside, inside, at Starbucks, in my car, or upside down, I can do it. (Okay, maybe not upside down, but you see what I’m saying.)

What do you most enjoy about writing?
Everything. There is nothing I don’t like about writing. I love creating characters–that’s probably my favorite part. My MCs end up feeling like my best friends.

What steps do you take in starting a new book?
Most of my books begin out of order. I’ll get a snippet of a scene in my mind and MUST write it down. Once I get it out, the story begins to build from there like some great, magical scheme from the ether. I don’t outline, though I do shove Post-Its on the wall above my bed with tons of notes about many different ideas.

Do you use a critique group or just trust your instincts?
I tried! I had a lot of interest from people in being beta readers for me. I sent “Abigail” out to five people, and never heard back from four; they must have absolutely hated “Abigail”, I guess. So, yes and no. I have one beta reader who I will continue to utilize while searching for more, as well as an author friend who also reads for me.

When it comes time for formatting, do you do it yourself or hire it out?
Do it myself I actually really enjoy ebook formatting! It’s a very zen thing for me, quite meditative.

What are you currently working on writing?
As in works in progress? Several. A paranormal thriller with a dead protagonist, a Southern chick lit, a Southern YA and a vampire/paranormal YA, a couple paranormal romance novels. Plus, a collection of paranormal romance shorts and some other stand alone shorts that will go up for free, like my first two. Probably more, but it’s late and I’m out of coffee.

Have you ever collaborated in your writing, and if not, would you consider it?
Yes It’s still a secret though, but suffice it to say I am currently co-writing a series with another author.

What advice would you give a new writer?
Other than just to write all the time, do your research. Learn about the indie publishing world, make sure you do all the steps right–put out professional looking product and enjoy it while you’re doing it. But, most importantly, keep writing. The more you have out, the better your chances at being found.

What is the most important thing you have learned about writing?
There is no bottom line. We all do things differently, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Success has a lot to do with luck, but talent plays a big part too. You must be talented, but you don’t have to be perfect. Readers will devour books and books are subjective. Someone may sing my praises to Texas and back, while someone else may call me a hack who will never make it. I can’t strive to be perfect or to follow the footsteps of another writer, because no one way is THE way. We forge our own paths.

How many drafts do you usually have before deciding it’s done?
About three, which I think is probably not many for a writer, huh? It’s surprising when I think about it because I have very little faith in my writing most of the time. So, why do I not obsess over drafts more? I am an enigma.

What would you do differently if you we just starting out today to become a writer?
I would have known about self-publishing when the boom began last year, so I could have published then. I wish I had had more of a headstart on the revolution

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

Now then, for the interview:

How many books, and in which genre, have you written?
“Apolo Drakuvich” – Novella, Literary Fiction / Dystopian Fiction
“The Wind Changed As I Lay Dying” – Poetry

Who is your favorite author?
I’m a huge fan of Hunter S. Thompson and “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” is one of my favorite books. I really dig his style and I love the blending of truth and fiction. Thompson lived a remarkable and crazy life. It’s appealing to me the dual life of Thompson. There was the character of Hunter S. Thompson or Raul Duke and the real Thompson. Somehow he managed to bring both to life.

What is the last book you read?
“Choke” by Chuck Palahniuk – It was pretty awesome.

Do you prefer to write on a laptop or a desktop computer?
I prefer to use a desktop but I don’t mind using my laptop. I even write on a notepad. As long as I can get the story down it doesn’t really matter what system is used.

What do you most enjoy about writing?
There are some odd ideas and stories that move around in my brain and I like sharing them with anyone interested in reading or hearing about them.

What steps do you take in starting a new book?
I let the idea hang around in my head for a while before I actually start to write anything down. The next step includes plenty of notes and then an outline. After that, I just write, write and write some more.

What are you currently working on writing?
I’m finishing up a novella, “The Strange Rise of Marlon Applewood” which will be released on September 20, 2011.

What advice would you give a new writer?
WRITE!

How many drafts do you usually have before deciding it’s done?
It usually takes about three to four drafts before I’m satisfied with the book or project. The first draft looks absolutely terrible and I have to stop myself from throwing it away. The second draft looks a lot better and when I reach the third draft I get a wonderful feeling. Things get fine tuned in the fourth draft.

What is the most difficult challenge in putting your book together?
I waste a lot of time doing other things besides writing. Some days I’ll just watch movies or play video games and other times it’s just chores around the house. I have to tell myself to write. My book count would be at 30 by now if I hadn’t wasted so much time. Oh well…don’t be like me…write…ha ha.

© 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.