TBG Author Interview: Kate Karyus Quinn!

Kate Karyus Quinn is an avid reader and menthol chapstick addict. She has lived in California and Tennessee, but recently made the move back to her hometown of Buffalo, New York, with her husband and two children in tow. She promised them wonderful people, amazing food, and weather that would... build character. Another Little Piece is her first novel.

1) How did you first come to the realization that you wanted to be a writer and then later when you decided to pursue publication?

I have been writing stories since 2^nd grade, and that’s pretty much how long I wanted to be a writer too. But then in middle school the theater bug bit me, and that sidetracked me for awhile. And then I became interested in film and writing screenplays. Fast-forward to my late twenties – I had a BFA in theatre, an MFA in film, a three month old son, and a job as a stay-at-home mom. I had begun many novels over the years, but had never completed one. At that point in my life, though, the timing was just right. I started writing a romance novel (now under my bed, may it rest in peace) and kept going until I reached “the end”.

2) How did you come up with the idea for ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE? Did it just come to you, or was it more of a gradual progression?

It was definitely a gradual progression. At first I even thought it was going to be a zombie novel (spoiler alert: it is NOT a zombie novel), but as I kept writing the novel as it is today began to take shape.

3) Where do you draw your inspiration from while you are writing? For example, do you listen to music while you write or sit outside?

I do like to listen to music while I write – especially at the beginning of writing ALP, I was listening to a lot of Evanescence. I don’t sit outside to write. The lack of climate control is too distracting and also the glare on the computer screen is not my favorite thing ever either.

4) How do you stay motivated to write? Even though you are a soon-to-be-published author, have you ever wanted to give up? And if so, how did you pull yourself back from the "edge"?

After I finished that first novel that I mentioned in the first question, I did some rewrites on it, and then began to query agents. Amazingly, I got a few bites. One agent even read the first fifty pages and said she loved it and asked for more. That was an amazing moment! Until… she wrote back saying the rest of it wasn’t for her. That’s when I was the closest to the edge and just wanted to give up. I think it was sheer stubbornness that pulled me back from the brink and made me keep writing. Since then I have not seriously considered quitting even once. There are set-backs, of course, but I just use them to motivate me to keep pushing forward.

5) Tell us about your writing habits: where you write, when you write, how much you write, etc.

I am a slow writer, who is constantly writhing with envy when I read about other writers who can slam down 3 or 5K words in a day. My goal when I am drafting is usually 1K a day. I am very happy if I hit this goal. Because of my day job and kids, I don’t really have a set schedule for writing, I just fit it in where I can.

6) How many stories did you start writing before you found a "winner" and how did you know you'd found a keeper?
I wrote two full novels before ALP. I thought they were all winners while I was writing them, I don’t think I could’ve written an entire novel (and revised several times) while thinking it was a loser. In retrospect I learned a lot from those projects and they made me a stronger writer.

7) Do you have any new writing projects in the works? Can you tell us about them?

I have another book that will be published through HarperTeen next year called DON’T YOU (FORGET ABOUT ME). It is another standalone and I hope that readers who enjoy ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE will also find much to enjoy in my next novel.

8) What were the most difficult and best parts of writing ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE?

The most difficult part for me is always just getting through the first draft.

9) What was your reaction and what did you do to celebrate when you found out that you were getting signed by your agent and then later when you found out ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE was going to be published?
I am not a jumping up and down type of person. I tend to internalize big things and just sort of let them sink in before I can really get excited about them. So I think my reaction was mostly to just stare into space and work through what the heck was happening.

10) What did your friends and family think when you told them you were writing ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE?
I tend to be a little cagey about details when I’m writing something new, so I didn’t really discuss it with my family or non-writing friends, until after I found an agent and the book sold. At that point they were, of course, very excited for me.

11) Now that you're a soon-to-be-published author and a more experienced writer, what advice would you give to your unpublished self?

I think I would give my unpublished self the same advice I am still giving my soon-to-be-published self – Keep writing, dude.

12) What was your journey to publication for ANOTHER LITTLE PIECE?
It was pretty typical, I think. I wrote the book, revised it with help from some crit partners, sent out queries to agents, had a few agents offer representation, picked one, and then went out on sub to publishers and eventually got a deal with HarperTeen.

13) What kind of atmosphere do you prefer to write in, calm or chaos?
Well calm is nice, but I can deal with some kid, tv, or dog related background noise within reason.

14) Do you have any odd and unusual habits which help you in regards to writing?

Does eating candy count as an odd habit?

To find out more about Kate and her awesome books, visit her website!

Thanks again, Kate and I can't wait to read ALP! :)

~Ella

Shiny New Toy

Yesterday, when I checked my mail this unexpected little gem was waiting for me. Although, I vaguely remember looking it over, but how it ended up at my house is beyond me. Wrong click? Maybe it followed me home? The book stork brought it?

My first thought was to send it back, but then I opened it and now, I don't care how it got here it is AMAZING! I LOVE IT!

75 emotions compete with two pages of physical sysmptoms, internal sensations, mental responses, the long-term reaction, what it may become, and bleed over when it's being suppressed. There's the standards like anger, disgust, fear, and love, but there's also ones I never thought of using like envy, remorse, wariness, and paranoia.

I've never had a problem seeing my characters. It's getting others to see them how I do that's the problem.  Then I started reading over the symptoms of paranoia, and it clicked! That's how I see my Soldiers. It just never occurred to me to write those little details down. Heck, I couldn't even find a way to convert the little things I saw in my mind's eye into words. But now I can. And it's just like wow, that's so much better.

-Aaron

Weaponry, a Girlz Best Friend

Everyone should have a weapon of choice. That one piece that fits them perfectly.

For me it's always been knives, specifically torpedo knives. I'll always remember the first time I saw one. I'd never seen anything like it, and I knew from that first moment it was the weapon for me. There's just something about a two pound, double point, 15 inch knife that can break a plywood target in half if it broadsides it that will always do it for me.

But until I read Hunger Games, I hadn't put that much thought into what my main characters carried. Then I started to think about it, and I realized every girl deserves a weapon that's just hers. One that fits her perfectly and says more about her than she ever could on her own.

Valencia (ÆGLÆCA)

A traditional weapon for a girl who loves breaking tradition. Versatile, decorative, and deptive the Eskimo yo-yo is bola, toy, and art form all rolled into one. Not technically a weapon, it disables prey long enough for an up close kill.








Allison Miller (Monstrous)

A modern twist on the traditional it's a throwback to simpler times. Perfect for a killer on the run, in it's collapsed form it can be attached to the belt for easy transport. Yet, in it's extended form it's capable of disabling an enemy while keeping the user at a safe distance.

 Raisa Dolan (Soldier of the Black Thorn)

What cursed princess doesn't deserve a truly wicked weapon? Like it's owner, this knife with three edges twisting to a deadly point is nothing if not lethal. As versatile as it is dangerous, it's as adept at stabbing someone in the back as it is straight through the heart.





So, what's your MC's weapon of choice?

-Aaron

A New Perspective

Clock Watching

As far as I'm concerned, it's a given that if someone's a writer they love it. It takes so much time and effort to do anyone who didn't truly love it would try it for a little while and then give up.

But, it's the second part that drew me to this quote. "And don't look at the clock."

I'm always looking at the clock and waiting for the moment when I'm finally done with the first step, when my first book is done and on the shelf. And this made me wonder if that's part of what's holding me back as a writer, that I spend too much time looking at the clock like someday it'll magically be time if I just keep checking the time.

- Aaron

TBG Author Interview: Kelsey Sutton

Today we have an interview with the wonderful Kelsey Sutton whose debut novel, Some Quiet Place, will be making its entrance on  July 8th 2013. Here's the summary for Some Quiet Place from Kelsey's blog.

I can’t weep. I can’t fear. I’ve grown talented at pretending.
Elizabeth Caldwell doesn’t feel emotions . . . she sees them. Longing, Shame, and Courage materialize around her classmates. Fury and Resentment appear in her dysfunctional home. They’ve all given up on Elizabeth because she doesn’t succumb to their touch. All, that is, save one—Fear. He’s intrigued by her, as desperate to understand the accident that changed Elizabeth’s life as she is herself.
Elizabeth and Fear both sense that the key to her past is hidden in the dream paintings she hides in the family barn. But a shadowy menace has begun to stalk her, and try as she might, Elizabeth can barely avoid the brutality of her life long enough to uncover the truth about herself. When it matters most, will she be able to rely on Fear to save her?

Intriguing, no? Now that you're totally hooked, the interview.

***

1) How did you first come to the realization that you wanted to be a writer and then later when you decided to pursue publication?

I was one of those writers who began as soon as I learned how to form letters on paper. It wasn’t long after that I decided I wanted one of my stories to be all official-looking like the books I was reading. I began querying at sixteen, actually, so that should give you a good idea of how determined I was!

2) How did you come up with the idea for SOME QUIET PLACE? Did it just come to you, or was it more of a gradual progression?

It happened in a moment. I was sitting in front of a computer with an open Word document, and I’d typed something totally cliché, like, “Fear rooted me in place.” I sat back, frowning, and wondered how I could make this utterly unique from other moments consumed by fear. Somehow, that fear became a tall, blonde, snarky creature that roams the earth and instills terror into every human being simply by touch. It became Fear, who is now one of my favorite characters.

So once I had this idea I asked myself questions that lead this concept to becoming a story. Who is the main character? What makes her different from all these people the emotions see every day? What is the main conflict? How do the emotions play into it?

The rest, as they say, is history.

3) Where do you draw your inspiration from while you are writing? For example, do you listen to music while you write or sit outside?

I do listen to music! Usually I’ll pick out one song that fits the manuscript perfectly, and I keep it on replay. This would probably drive some people nuts. Once I have that song, I can write anywhere. Outside, in bed, on my couch, at the kitchen table. So music is the biggest part of my inspiration.

4) How do you stay motivated to write? Even though you are a soon-to-be-published author, have you ever wanted to give up? And if so, how did you pull yourself back from the "edge"?

The only time I want to throw in the towel is during revisions. I loathe revisions. I’m one of those weird authors who loves the drafting process best. So I push through that feeling by keeping the endgame foremost in my mind. I imagine getting that e-mail that tells me this story is as perfect as it can be, or I picture the manuscript with a stunning cover and sitting on a shelf. 

5) Tell us about your writing habits: where you write, when you write, how much you write, etc.

Well, I can write anywhere. I’ve written on a train before, in a car, in a plane, and in noisy restaurants. It really doesn’t matter as long as the story has me in its clutches. I tend to write on my days off. I’m a full-time student and I work in a coffee shop, so those are major time-sucks. It’s during the breaks – like this Christmas holiday, for example – that I get the most done. I’ll sit down and write for hours, and get a few thousand words onto the page. Then the document will go untouched for a few days. You get the idea. Of course, all bets are off if I have a story that just won’t leave me alone. Then the homework doesn’t get done and my professors are very unhappy with me.

6) How many stories did you start writing before you found a "winner" and how did you know you'd found a keeper?

Oh, my gosh. I wrote so many beginnings before I stumbled onto SOME QUIET PLACE. At least thirty. I was what you might call a “serial starter”. Even my friends would tell me I have great ideas, but I needed to actually finish one of them. One day a story just grabbed hold of me, and didn’t let go until I reached the last word. Since then it’s gotten easier to finish manuscripts… although I still start way too many before I get to that special idea. My poor agent and friends have to listen to me babble about each and every one of them. “Maybe this one! Or, wait, isn’t this cool? Wait, I have it. You need to read it. I promise, this is the one!”

7) Do you have any new writing projects in the works? Can you tell us about them?

I just finished a manuscript, actually! I can’t tell you too much about it, but I will tell you that it’s scary and sad and sexy. Kind of a weird combination, now that I think about it…

8) What were the most difficult and best parts of writing SOME QUIET PLACE?

The hardest part was the revisions, hands down. This manuscript went through so many different versions and notes that it’s utterly different from the first draft. The best part was writing Elizabeth’s (the main character) voice. Her story just came to me, like it needed to be told. As an added bonus, Fear came along. He already has his own fan club. Enough said, right?

9) What was your reaction and what did you do to celebrate when you found out that you were getting signed by your agent and then later when you found out SOME QUIET PLACE was going to be published?

When I signed with Beth, I remember my heart was pounding and my palms were sweating. I told everyone about it, even those people whose response was, “What’s an agent?” I didn’t really celebrate officially. But when the deal with Flux became official, some friends took me out to dinner. That was a special day.

10) What did your friends and family think when you told them you were writing SOME QUIET PLACE?

I didn’t really tell people I was writing it. Those I was close to knew I was always working on something, but it wasn’t until I got the deal with Flux (almost two years later) that they asked about it particularly.

11) Now that you're a soon-to-be-published author and a more experienced writer, what advice would you give to your unpublished self?

I would tell that girl to slow down. I queried the first novel I ever finished, and I queried the novel after that. My writing wasn’t developed and I had a long way to go, but I was in such a hurry. If we’re writing to get published, instead of our love for it, it’s going to be a difficult journey. So, unpublished self, take a breath and enjoy the process of those stories unfolding.

12) What was your journey to publication for SOME QUIET PLACE?

Long and hard. I had two failed manuscripts before I wrote the one that led to signing with Beth, and then we were on submission for months and months after that. The story went through many changes and we got many rejections. It was hard not to lose hope or belief in the value of what I’d created, but we persevered, and Flux rewarded that.

13) What kind of atmosphere do you prefer to write in, calm or chaos?

I can do either, but my preference is calm, I suppose. This way the music and the words consume everything. No distractions.

14) What is your writing process like?

When I’m working on a manuscript that I absolutely love, I’ll finish it within three months. I don’t go out with friends, I don’t do responsible things like showering or cleaning or doing homework. I’ll hammer out those chapters until I have a “finished” manuscript on my hands. I’m pretty much a pantser, so my drafts are always messy. Thus… revisions. Sigh.

15) Do you have any odd and unusual habits which help you in regards to writing?

I drink a lot of Chai tea, and I like to light a candle before I sit down to write for the day. I think that’s about it!

***

To find out all the latest on what's going on with Kelsey and her writing, be sure to check out her fantastic blog! Thanks so much, Kelsey, and we can't wait to get our hands on Some Quiet Place.

Ella & Aaron

No Kiss Blogfest!

Source: Uploaded by user via Ella on Pinterest

Well, I'm thrilled to announce that it's finally that time of year again!  Welcome to: The 4th Annual No Kiss Blogfest, brought to you by Frankie Diane Mallis! Before we get to the goods, in case your curious, my entry for this year's NKB was inspired by a scene from an odd by nonetheless awesome movie called Elvis and Anabelle and ever since I first saw that movie and that particular scene, I've wanted to write one like it (if you've seen the movie you'll know which one I'm talking about)! The following is my attempt at recreating that scene-hope you like it! :)

*** 

 In the past, when I would fantasize about being alone with Molly Sinclair, the scene in my head usually involved the two of us in some intimate setting at various locations: like sitting inside a parked car at the local drive-in movie theater watching some gory teen slasher flick while Molly squeezed my hand in a death grip, her eyes squeezed tightly shut in fear, or her and I laying side-by-side on our backs in grass, gazing up at the star-filled sky while we talked and laughed for hours on end.

But never in a million years could I have imagined that that fantasy would one day become a reality, just...not in the way I would have ever expected.  

Because now, here I was, finally alone with her, the girl of my dreams, the girl who I had been in love with since kindergarten, except reality was nothing like my fantasies...it was far, far, worse.  

Because even though I had finally gotten what I had always wanted and I was finally alone with her, we weren't in an intimate setting, holding hands or laughing and talking for hours like how I had always imagined we would be, instead we were inside my house, better known by the locals as the Weston Family Funeral Home. 

Throughout my elementary, junior high and now high school career, all my classmates knew me as Carter "kid who lives with dead people" Weston, and it was because of that fact-and the fact that my Dad was the funeral director-that I had become a school pariah, feared and ignored by all who knew me, afraid that they would catch whatever disease a kid who lived in a funeral home carried. 

So naturally, my day-to-day existence at school was a fairly bleak one-except where Molly was concerned. She was my one bright spot in a world filled with death, bullies, and fearful glances.  Molly was beautiful and popular, well-liked by everyone who knew her.  But what was different about her was that she wasn't your stereotypical popular girl, oh no. Molly was sweet and outgoing, with a huge heart, always willing to give a hand to anyone who needed it, no matter who they were.  

So whenever she went out of her way to say hi to me when we passed each other in the hall or even smile at me from across the room if our eyes met, even as her friends looked on in horror, I shouldn't have been surprised, that's just the kind of person she was, but still, every time she interacted with me, even in the slightest and most insignificant of ways, I was in awe.  Shocked that someone as high on the social food chain as Molly would risk tainting her squeaky clean reputation just to acknowledge a nobody like me.

Even though we'd known each other almost our entire lives and had barely said more then a handful of words to each other during that time, I was in love.  Hopelessly and utterly in love with a girl I barely knew but who made me want to be a better person, who gave me the strength I needed to get out of bed every morning in order to face the firing squad that was my school, who made me happy to be alive with just a smile.     

So when my Dad woke me in the middle of the night saying that we had a fresh body that had just arrived, I was suddenly wide awake and chomping at the bit: I had been waiting for this moment for years. Dad had promised that as soon as he thought I was ready, he would let me embalm a body all on my own, 100% solo. 

I couldn't wait. 

In a matter of minutes, I was dressed and heading downstairs to our basement, where we kept all the bodies to be prepared for burial.  I had a feeling that tonight's body was a result of the fatal car crash that I had seen on the 10:00 news earlier that night and my whole body tingled with anticipation.

Unlike most people, I had seen hundreds of dead bodies over the course of my short 16 year lifespan and tonight's body would be no different.  My Dad had taught me from an early age how important it was to remain composed and emotionally distant when faced with a new human corpse.  Depending on how the person died, it could be quite a shock to the system when you first pulled back the sheet covering the oftentimes still warm body laying the embalming table.  You were never quite sure what you would be greeted with or what kind of condition the body would be in upon that first viewing, and you had to make sure to be mentally and emotionally prepared for whatever might happen.

As I entered the pitch black basement, I clicked on the naked light bulb overhead, shielding my eyes from the sudden glare of light as the bulb swung back and forth, casting dark shadows around the room. Once my eyes had adjusted to the light, I peered across the room to find the embalming table already out and waiting, like it had somehow been expecting me, the unmistakable form of a human body laying on top of it, hidden from view by a crisp white sheet.

I walked briskly across the room and stood in front of the table, licking my lips and slowly clenching and unclenching my hands into fists at my sides.  I don't know why I was suddenly so nervous; I had been in this same scenario hundreds of times as a bystander while my Dad did all the work, so this should be no big deal. 

But it was, and I knew it.

Maybe it was because I was finally realizing that I was no longer a bystander, but a participant in what was to one day become my futer life's work once my Dad retired.  But whatever the reason, I couldn't let my nerves get the best of me, not now. 

I had work to do.

Once I had gotten my nerves under control, I took a deep, calming breath and slowly pulled the sheet back to reveal the body underneath-

And dropped the sheet so fast, it was like it was on fire. 

I backed as far as I could away from the table as the blood drained from my face and my heart stuttered to a stop.  No, this couldn't be happening.  I was dreaming, that's all.  I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could, willing this incomprehensible nightmare to go away.  But when I dared to open them again a second later, I knew: This was no nightmare, this was reality. 

Molly Sinclair was dead...and laying on my embalming table.

I barely managed to keep myself up on my feet as I felt the room begin to pitch and sway around me.  I shoved my head between my knees, fighting the urge to vomit.  No, no, no.  Not Molly, anyone but Molly.  Once the feeling of nausea subsided, my skin now slick with sweat and my heart pumping in a terrified frenzy, I somehow mustered the courage to approach the embalming table once more.

As I stood over the table I knew that no matter how desperately I wanted it to be a lie or a horrible misunderstanding, I couldn't deny it any longer: It was Molly on that matel slab, completely nude and covered in dried blood and cuts and scraps, a gaping wound on the side of her head.  Her usually milky skin was now a chalky white, her full red lips tinged blue, her eyes mercifully closed, and her long blonde hair fanned out around her head, matted and caked with blood, full of twigs and leaves.

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes and a large lump lodged itself into my throat as I gazed down at her broken body.  "Oh, Molly..." I said in a strangled whisper. "I'm so, so, sorry..."  A tear escaped from the corner of my eye and rolled down my cheek as I gingerly reached out to graze her cheek with the back of my hand.  My breath caught in my throat when I realized her skin was no longer warm, but cold to the touch. 

She had been dead for hours.

A whimper escaped my mouth as the horrifying realization hit me: She was gone. The girl with so much to offer, so much to live for, always happy and so full of life, was gone.  

Forever.

Now I would never know what might have been had she lived.  How, if given the chance, Molly and I might have moved from friendly acquaintances to friends and the, maybe, to something more.  But now even that faint hope of a possible future with Molly was gone, snuffed out, just like Molly herself.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from crying, even as the tears filled my eyes once more and the lump in my throat swelled to the size of a golf ball.  Then, like a man possessed, the urge to do what I had only dreamed of doing for years suddenly took ahold of me and leaned down until my face was just mere inches from her own and prepared myself to give the girl of my dreams, not our first kiss, like I had always imagined, but instead a kiss goodbye, for what was, for what could have been and for what was no more.

My face hovered above Molly's as I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that she was still alive and well, that we out on our first date and that she was as happy to finally be alone with me as I was with her and that I had finally gotten up the guts to give her a kiss goodnight-

"Carter-how's it going down there?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the sound of my Dad's voice called from upstairs, shattering my daydream into a million pieces.  My eyes shot open and I jerked back, looking toward the stairs.  "Fine, Dad!" I croaked. 

My heart hammered in my chest at what I had almost been caught doing.  What was I thinking?  Molly was dead for Christ sake, I couldn't kiss her now.  I wasn't a sicko, but I had to be more careful, I couldn't let my emotions get the best of me like that again, they committed people for this kind of thing, sicko or no.

I turned back to the table, ready to replace the sheet over Molly's and put my thoughts of her to rest-once and for all. 

But when I looked down, I realized with a sick, slithering feeling in my gut that Molly's eyes were no longer closed like they had been a moment before...

They were open.

~Ella