Eleven Questions for: Marcia Meara

Marcia Meara is a native Floridian, living in the Orlando area with her husband of 29 years, two silly little dachshunds and four big, lazy cats. She’s fond of reading, gardening, hiking, canoeing, painting, and writing, not necessarily in that order. But her favorite thing in the world is spending time with her two grandchildren, ten-year-old Tabitha Faye, and twenty-month-old Kaelen Lake.

Her latest novel, A Boy Named Rabbit (Wake Robin Ridge #2) is now available at Amazon.

Q:
While writing: silence, music, or white noise?
A:
Silence. Absolute silence. When I’m wandering around in an alternate universe, scribbling down what I see my characters doing, any noise at all will pull me right out of that world, and bring everything to a screeching halt.

Q:
A Boy Named Rabbit deals with The Sight–have you ever had a premonition or psychic experience?
A:
Not really. I do have pretty good intuition about people and their motives or behavior. Of course, where it concerns men, I’ve often ignored it, which didn’t always work out well for me. But that’s a whole ‘nuther story! As for things like The Sight, mental telepathy, telekinesis, and precognition, I’ve never had any unusual experiences myself, nor seen anyone else experience any. However, I’m fascinated by what the human brain might be capable of that we just haven’t realized, yet. Since we only use a small percentage of our brainpower, it makes me wonder what we might be able to do if we ever find out what all those unused gray cells are there for.

Q:
Best beverage for writing?
A:
Earl Grey, hot. (Me and Jean-Luc Picard.)

Q:
Best beverage for not writing?
A:
Earl Grey, hot.

Q:
You’re an indie author. Did you consider going the traditional route? What made this the best model for you?
A:
Simple. I’m also a 70-year old indie author. It seemed to me that the long, drawn-out process of sending out manuscripts and receiving rejection letters over and over, ad nauseum, until (if you’re lucky) being accepted by a traditional publishing company was something best left to someone far younger than I. I don’t have decades in which to make this all happen. And I very much want to tell as many stories as I can in the years left to me. So for me, it was a no-brainer. Self-publishing, all the way. From concept, to draft, through editing, and then publishing, my first novel, Wake-Robin Ridge was “out there” in nine months. (And it definitely felt like giving birth, too.)

I did a lot of reading on the subject, and frankly, I think the traditional publishing industry has some built-in drawbacks for many writers. I don’t mean self-publishing is the answer for everyone, but it should certainly be carefully considered. Am I making millions? No. But I’m making a whole bunch more than I would be if I were still sitting around waiting for a publisher to decide to give my book a chance. And that works for me.

Q:
Rabbit is an endearing little boy who faces a lot of peril. What are your best tips for putting characters you love through pain and suffering? Are you sometimes tempted to go easier on them than the story demands?
A:
I don’t have a problem throwing trouble at my characters, because I believe in them, and their ability to overcome the odds—so I’m never tempted to go easier on them. I’d be more inclined to do the opposite, and make it even harder, I think. I often wonder when I’m done if it’s been difficult enough, or shocking enough, or scary enough to allow the character to prove his or her worth.

I can’t offer a lot of advice, because I seldom know when I start writing exactly how bad the situation might get. The folks in my tales usually tell me, and I write it down. I guess my only tip would be to have faith in your characters and trust that they can do the merely difficult with one hand tied behind their backs. The impossible might take a bit longer, but they can do that, too. Just turn ‘em loose, and they’ll surprise you.

Q:
What’s your favorite thing about publishing besides the writing?
A:
Seeing my book on the Amazon website or in print on my bookshelf. I’m still astounded when I realize I’ve written 3 novels and a book of poetry in less than 2 years. And people are reading them! (Okay, not the poetry, so much, but I wrote that one just for me, anyway, since poetry will never sell like a novel will.) Nothing beats the thrill I get when I open a box from the printer, and pick up that first copy of my latest book. Holy Moly! Reading good reviews is a close second.

Q:
Top three favorite fictional characters?
A:
Surely you meant 33, right? I mean, three? Oh, dear. Who to choose, who to choose…thinking…

Okay, Harry Dresden has to be my first choice, for far too many reasons to list here. Best. Wizard. Ever. Period! And his desire to do the right thing, no matter what it costs him personally has pulled me back for 17 books now.

Second choice is definitely Dorothy Gale who taught me to look for rainbows everywhere I go, and that the best way to kill a wicked witch is to drop a house on her. In fact, pretty much everything I know about life, I learned from her.

And tied for third, this motley crew: Odd Thomas from the wonderful series of the same name by Dean Koontz; Daniel Day-Lewis as Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans; Inman from Charles Frazier’s beautifully profound novel, Cold Mountain; Ada, from the same book. Count Laszlo de Almasy a/k/a The English Patient; the Phantom of the Opera; Tybalt, King of Cats, and Toby Daye, who loves him; the assassin Sicarius from the Emperor’s Edge series…Oh, brother! Somebody STOP me! It’s possible I’ve mentioned more than three, here.

Q:
Is there a genre you don’t write in, but think you might like to one day?
A:
I really enjoy reading good urban fantasy, and I’d love to be able to create a believable world filled with remarkable creatures that roam the streets of our cities. I have no clue how my favorite UF authors do it. I’m in awe of writers like Jim Butcher, Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs, Rachel Caine, and Seanan McGuire, to name just a few. I can’t imagine writing the kinds of stories they write, but oh, how I’d love to! In the meantime, though, I’m pretty happy telling tales of romantic suspense, some of which do have some strange elements thrown in for fun.

Q:
You’ve just finished writing a book, or completed some other big milestone. What do you do to celebrate?
A:
Ummm…the happy dance around my chair? Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything special, other than call or email friends and happily proclaim that it’s DONE! I’ve usually already got another story started, and I just sort of switch gears and move on with that one. Sorry to be so boring, but that’s about what happens. Oh, wait. I bought a new purse when I finished Rabbit. Does that count?

Q:
Best villain (books, movies, or TV)?
A:
Villain, with no “S” on the end? Ack. How can I do that? So many to choose from! Okay, here goes. I guess my favorite of all time would have to be Dracula. He’s the first really evil guy I remember reading about, many decades ago, and he still gives me shivers in every incarnation that comes along. (Look! Only one villain! How good am I?)


If you’re an indie author and you’re up for answering eleven questions, email me.

I’ve gone wide

No, this is not a post about middle age flab. My period of exclusivity with Amazon is up, and Ghost in the Canteen is now available at Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Scribd, and Inktera.

Book two in the series, Peak of the Devil, will be released in about 13 (spooky!) weeks. As an incentive to get started with the series, the eBook edition of Ghost in the Canteen is now just 99¢.

Subscribers to my newsletter will be getting an exclusive look at the first chapter of Peak in March, so if you’re interested, be sure to hop over and get on the list. Or, you know, click over. Whichever is easier.

Search terms: you ask, I answer

This is one of my favorite games to play on my other blog, but I don’t think I’ve ever done it here. I feel it’s only polite to try to help those who visit me seeking something specific. Luckily, WordPress can tell me what they were looking for.

real dornish peppers: It would have been better for you to hear this from a loved one, but I’m afraid there’s not a real Dorne. I imagine you could substitute any of several varieties of chili?

things that are not scary: Macaroons. Napkins. Toothpaste. The Blair Witch Project.

sansa loves lemon cakes: Yep.

jen rasmussen hawaii nude: Not that I recall.

richard armitage butt: Seriously, four of you in the last thirty days? I am not the proper resource for this. Meaning no offense to Mr. Armitage, there aren’t very many people whose butts I care to know stuff about.

american horror story briefly topics: Ghosts, aliens, medical experiments gone awry, odd explanations for the Black Dahlia, creepy clowns, creepy nuns, creepy war criminals, completely uncreepy and nonsensical witches, serial killers, and ladies who want babies. Not in that order.

info on murder of jen rasmussen: I imagine I’d be the last to know.

we found a witch may we burn her: How do you know she’s a witch?

jen scary thing: Not generally. Maybe if that Hawaii thing was true.

where do you send for letter to cary fukunaga: I can’t help with this, but if you write to him, tell him I loved his Jane Eyre!

four and tris with supernatural powers: I agree this would be cool.

excessive planning: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS.

i would always rather be happy than dignified: Jane and I both approve.

mr rochester x reader lemon: This is almost certainly code for something, but as I’m not a Cold War spy, I don’t know what. Perhaps my commenters can offer suggestions, if it wouldn’t blow their cover.

One Last Time

MAJOR SPOILERS for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, both movies and books.

CORRECTION: My apologies for getting the subtitle of the first movie wrong. What can I say, there were a few iterations during production, and I’m a forgetful old lady. That part’s been removed.

 

The subtitle for the second Hobbit movie made no sense. The Desolation of Smaug didn’t happen in that movie. But The Battle of Five Armies is aptly named. The battle is the movie. The whole movie.

It’s to Peter Jackson’s credit, then, that despite all that (great) action and all those (great) special effects, this was really a character movie. This is what I was missing from the second installment: it rang a little hollow, because it was just a bunch of action scenes mashed together without enough room for the actors to, you know, act and stuff.

That doesn’t happen here, and ultimately, it’s Jackson’s cast that carries this trilogy to a triumphant end. So I’m going to say nice things about them first, before I do any scolding.

Among some very stiff competition, Luke Evans and Richard Armitage were the standouts. Armitage played Thorin’s descent into madness beautifully. Sure, Thorin was a bit over the top, but if you haven’t come to expect that from Peter Jackson’s direction by now, you haven’t been paying attention. And it was the quiet moments, the flashes of the real Thorin coming through, that made the whole thing work. Armitage is what I always think of as a face actor; his performances are as much about his expression as the delivery of his lines. And when you can pull that off under all that hair and makeup, that’s saying something.

Luke Evans, on the other hand, actually manages to deliver a performance with restraint in a Peter Jackson movie, which is also saying something. He hits all the right notes with Bard, without ever crossing over into melodrama, and gives us an understated hero who despite his unlikely acrobatics and even more unlikely, for a fisherman, weapon skills, is completely believable.

And speaking of face actors, Dean O’Gorman is an unsung hero of these movies, because Aiden Turner’s Kili (also well played) gets all the spotlight in that brotherhood. But Dean O’Gorman? Is awesome. Peter Jackson is a great storytelller, and watching Fili and Kili growing from immature, innocent, plate-tossing goofballs into brave and battle-hardened men (or, well, grown dwarves) has been one of my favorite stories to watch.

The dwarves in the book aren’t really characters, except for Thorin (who himself only has one note, and that note is jerk). The others are largely indistinguishable from one another, a string of funny names. It’s quite an accomplishment for the writers and the cast that they managed to create thirteen actual, distinct, sympathetic people. I will never again read the Moria scene in Fellowship without tears, because Ken Stott made Balin real. Also a special round of applause for Graham McTavish, who succeeded in making me see Dwalin again, when I was pretty sure I’d only be able to think of him as Dougal from now on (and thus want to punch him).

It’s always, always a pleasure to see Ian McKellan and Cate Blanchett. I’d watch them read their grocery lists and be riveted the whole time. I can’t with this weird Gandalf-Galadriel thing, but still. Nice to see you guys!

And then we have Martin Freeman. Crikey. I really think this is the single best piece of casting across all six movies, and this performance right here is how you take a movie full of pointy elf ears and swords and dragons and make it real for people. And incidentally, while I got emotional several times, I did not cry until Bilbo started crying over Thorin’s body. (Then I cried the whole rest of the time.)

Okay, enough gushing. I have a bone to pick. There’s pretty much no point anymore in book comparisons. The Hobbit movies especially are more “inspired by” than “based on,” and that’s okay. Unlike a lot of other book fans, I like Tauriel just fine, and I like Evangeline Lilly in the role. But all that said, the worn-to-death star-crossed lovers routine is, frankly, a piss poor replacement for how Fili and Kili really die. It’s just one little line in the book:

Fili and Kili had fallen defending him with shield and body, for he was their mother’s elder brother.

But that image of them, fighting to the death over the mortally wounded Thorin, has stuck with me since I was seven years old. Because all that courage and loyalty and sacrifice make a tragic, fitting end to the House of Durin. And it’s so much more compelling than what we got.

I’ve expected to have my heart broken by their deaths since they first came to dinner at Bilbo’s. But, nope. I was properly shocked and dismayed by the abruptness of Fili’s, but Kili’s was so strongly telegraphed, and in such a cliched way, that when it finally came it was almost a relief. I was sorry they were dead, but the actual deaths did not make me cry. And they should have. That should have been one of the most memorable scenes in all six movies.

On a lighter note for the darkest of the Middle Earth movies, it’s clear to me that either Peter Jackson, or someone on his team, plays Word of Warcraft. First they put dwarves on rams. Then Beorn does a textbook bear bomb. Coincidence or conspiracy?

I’d like to end with a hat tip to the genius who came up with the “One Last Time” marketing campaign. Because I spent the last, I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes crying, and by the end it had nothing to do with the story and everything to do with my knowledge that we were leaving (movie) Middle Earth forever.

Only the rights to The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings were ever sold, and if memory serves, Christopher Tolkien has been very clear that he has no intention of selling the rights to any of Tolkien’s other work, ever. Peter Jackson already did some mining in the appendices of Lord of the Rings for the Hobbit movies, and I don’t think there’s much more story to be wrung out of the material he’s allowed to use.

Then again, “not much more” isn’t the same thing as “none,” is it? #OneMoreTime?

Unworthy people are picking what to read, you guys!

This is worth the read. But as always, out of respect for those of you who are, unlike me, spending your Friday productively, I’ll summarize:


The rabble are reading! And they’re reading whatever they want! This qualifies as an emergency, because books are for writers to read amongst themselves, and the unwashed masses must get off the writers’ lawns. But if they must peer through the window and beg, from out there on the lawn, they ought to at least have the decency to read what they’re told.


This isn’t the current trendy tsunami of crap tantrum, although Krystal does call it “a huge mistake” that “the prevailing mood welcomes fiction and poetry of every stripe, as long as the reading public champions it.”

But academics were hip to the tsunami of crap way before it became a thing. Their desire to be the sole arbiters of what does and does not qualify as great is old. Old, and also male, and white.

Yeah yeah I’m a smartass, but this is the problem I’ve always had with the attempt to define, and hold onto, a literary canon: you don’t get to.

Define it for yourself, sure. Scoff at the crap. I sure do. For the purposes of teaching or discussion or just good old fashioned snobbery, put together a working definition the group can agree on. Great. Go to it. But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it? Because the word canon implies official authority.

Well, guess what? There isn’t an authority. No, there really isn’t. No, you really aren’t it. I don’t care how expert, or smart, or educated, or well-intentioned you may be. Books are not yours. There is no individual or governing body that gets to tell the reading public what their “prevailing mood” ought to be. That’s because, and say it with me now:

Books are for everyone.

O Hai!

My apologies for my lack of attention to your blogs and such. I’m trying to catch up. I’ve been in and out of it, and I’m not going to whine too much, but man, the flu is BAD this year, peeps. It’s a lot like World of Warcraft, actually. Just when you think you’ve put it behind you for good, it sucks you back under.

As a result of my hermitizing (sure it’s a word) I haven’t even seen the last Hobbit movie yet. DON’T TELL ME. But I’ll be reviewing it here once I do.

I have been reading, but I never did finish Revival. I’m sure I will at some point. I like curling up with a good historical love story in the winter time, although I shy away from the erotica end of things, and that is all the rage in romance these days. I’ve read the first couple of Elizabeth Hoyt’s Maiden Lane series, and it’s pretty darn graphic, but enjoyable nonetheless because it’s a cool period and I like her weaving in of the gin trade in London. It adds meat to the story, but isn’t so preachy that I have to roll my eyes and go read something else. The books aren’t entirely historically accurate, but what historical romance is? At least these heroines are products of their time and conflicted about sex, which is a dimension I like.

I keep trying, and failing, to finish the second Outlander book too. I guess I’m showing a lack of commitment these days, but what can I say? Too many books, not enough time. Even the likes of Stephen King and Diana Gabaldon have to stay sharp and keep me interested, because I have so many other choices to move on to if they don’t.

Exception: George Martin, you don’t have to be sharp or interesting. Seriously, I promise, it’s okay. Just send them the draft. We don’t mind. Statistically speaking, I’m past the halfway point in my life now, and I need to know who Jon Snow’s mother is before I die.

Actually I take that back. You can take your time, George. If you don’t tell me soon, HBO will. But is that really how you want me to find out?

Astute readers will note that the cover for Ghost in the Canteen has changed. (Yes again, but only once since publication, so that makes it okay.) The change is populating around all the many nooks and crannies of Amazon and the interwebs that book covers live in, so it may be inconsistent for a bit. (For example, the Amazon widget in my sidebar is still showing the old one as of this writing.)

While working on the cover for Peak of the Devil, we decided on a slight change to the look and feel for the series as a whole. One of the challenges with dark snark is that it’s by nature contradictory. Conveying that it’s bloody and scary but in a totally funny way can be difficult, but I think the new look strikes that balance better.

Peak is moving along on schedule for a release the last week of April or first week in May. After that the remaining three books in the series will be coming along faster, three to four months apart.

Nonetheless, I want HBO to know that if they’d like to offer up some spoilers by buying the television rights and producing it faster than I do, that’s totally okay.

Happy whatnots

Happy new year, and any other holidays you may or may not celebrate during this festive season. I’ll be back in regular form after the first of the year, when I’m done with all this baking.

Stay safe, drive sober, GET OFF YOUR PHONE, resolve many things you won’t do, live long and prosper, may the force be with you, the greatest adventure is what lies ahead, and so on and so forth.

Pie, Revival, and telling me my butt looks fat

Finally coming up for air after all the holiday festivities. I hope all my American peeps had a great Thanksgiving! Do you still have pie? I still have exactly one piece of pie, which I’m strongly considering having for breakfast. But that’s just because I made my mom make another pie right before she left. Was that mean? Otherwise I’d have been out, despite having a 2:1 person:pie ratio at the table last Thursday.

Thanksgiving was late this year, which means if you celebrate Christmas and left it until after like I did, you’re already behind on your holiday shopping. Luckily for you, Kindle books are so easy to buy and give, and Ghost in the Canteen is just 99 cents all week long!

Speaking of which, I’m not that author who lets her mom write a review. Or her sister, or her best friend, or even her beagle. I do know some of the people who’ve left reviews so far, but they’re real people who’ve really read the book. (Or at least I’m pretty sure they’re real, although I’ve only ever met them online.) And they are not those people in your life who would hesitate to tell you your butt looks fat, you know? The upside is that I know, and you can rest assured, that my reviews are legitimate and honest.

The downside? I don’t have enough reviews. So if you’ve read Ghost and enjoyed it, please consider leaving an honest reader review on Amazon.

My own honest reader review, thus far, of Stephen King’s Revival is this: Revival is on my Kindle. The new WoW expansion is on my PC. In my scant bit of unwinding time before I go to bed each night, I look from one to the other. And I choose WoW pretty much every time.

I’d say I can’t remember the last time I was this unengaged in a King book, but I can: it was the last one, Mr. Mercedes, which was, if it can be believed, even worse than The Tommyknockers. So a bad streak here. Revival is better written than Mr. Mercedes, and the characters are interesting, but maybe I’m just not clicking with it. I’m about 35% in and it just lacks momentum. There’s nothing keeping me coming back. If it was almost anyone else’s book, I’d have put it down by now. But since it’s King I’ll probably tough it out. It is creating a backlog in my TBR pile, though.

So that’s my update. I KNOW YOU WANTED AN UPDATE. You can go back to stimulating the economy now.

Did we learn nothing from Pennywise?

This post contains spoilers for Stephen King’s It and last week’s American Horror Story, but not this week’s, because I haven’t watched it yet. I don’t mind if you spoil it when making comments, though.

American Horror Story has made me sad. They had such a great thing going with that clown. But they ruined it. No no, not by killing him. I mean, I’m kind of bummed about that too, because it’s too early in the season to lose their best feature, but I could have handled that.

But first they had to give him an origin story, and that’s where it all went wrong. Horror rule, you guys: leave the clown alone. Resist the urge to mess with the clown.

Do you remember when you read It, and Pennywise was just the most terrifying thing? And then the makeup came off and it was just, like, a big bug? That was such a letdown. The only thing that kept it from ruining the book was that the rest of it was so damned scary that you could forgive even that big a flaw. American Horror Story just made the same mistake, and they haven’t got Stephen King’s skill to talk their way out of it. (Don’t feel bad, Ryan Murphy and friends. Nobody does.)

Because you have two kinds of villains: villains who are uncomfortably like the rest of us, and monsters. The former are relatable, and that makes them both scary and tragic. You might hate them, but you get it, how they became what they did, the things that make us crack, the darkness within all of us. Nobody likes to look too long into that darkness, and these villains work because somewhere in the back of your mind you’re afraid that, given the same circumstances, that could be you.

These are good candidates for origin stories and mask removal. We need to know their motivations and we need to understand them. They need character arcs of their own. They don’t work otherwise, and they come off flat.

But monsters work the opposite way. They must be mysterious. The source of their terror is their otherness, their inhumanity, the sense of something bigger and badder than any of us. It’s great for them to be disguised as something familiar, especially if it’s something related to childhood, like a clown or a doll. That only adds to the effect. But you must make me imagine something awful under there without ever, under any circumstances, showing it to me. Take off the mask and give me a big spider, or a sad man who hasn’t got the capacity to judge the right or wrong of his actions, and you’ve just replaced the mystique with something I can deal with, even something mundane. The trick to the monster is understanding that you can’t scare someone better than they can scare themselves.

Where American Horror Story went wrong is that they started with a monster and then at the last second tried to swap it for the human kind of villain. Once you’ve put someone in a clown suit, he is not that kind of villain. He is unequivocally a monster, and there’s nothing you can show me under his makeup that will be scarier than him with it on.

Okay, fine, maybe they didn’t want him to be scary anymore. But why not? Why ruin all that terror momentum they had going, just on the off chance that they could use a few minutes before they killed him off, after we’ve been watching a monster for weeks, to make us see a sad man instead, and feel sorry for him?

There’s no point to that, and also, it didn’t work. The origin story wasn’t interesting or good. And going for the cheap gross-out with that jaw? Totally ruined a perfectly good evil clown. It’s like Pennywise all over again.

Just leave the clown alone.

Props for getting Wes Bentley though, AHS.

The Ghost has landed

ebooksmGhost in the Canteen is now available in ebook and paperback formats, exclusively at Amazon. Click here to find out more, download a sample, or buy the book.

Thanks to all my peeps who’ve been so kind, helpful, and supportive while I was getting this book ready for release.

This also seems like a good time to publicly express my gratitude and admiration for Passive Guy, David Gaughran, Hugh Howey, Data Guy, Joe Konrath, and all the other indie trailblazers who’ve thrown their cloaks over the mud for those of us coming after, and generously given their time and energy to educate us on the business.

I want my book to be fun for you. I don’t want you to buy it because I gave you a desperate scary hard sell, like that lady in the store who’s all “Can I help you? Huh? Huh? Can I? Pleeease? Help you?” I hope you’ll check it out and, if it seems like your kind of thing, I hope you’ll buy it and read it.

And hey guess what? The holiday season is coming, and Kindle gifts are cheap and easy! So if you know someone else who enjoys supernatural stories, I hope you’ll keep my book in mind.

My final hope is that if you do read it and enjoy it, you’ll consider leaving a review on Amazon. This need not take long. Just a sentence or two makes a huge difference, because reviews are the tasty snacks that feed Amazon’s magical algorithm dragon.

Now if you’ll excuse me, there is a celebratory rye and tonic calling my name.