Pain is just weakness leaving the body.
What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
Talenti’s Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Gelato.
Which mythological creature are you most like?
I am unable to compare myself to imaginary things. I can’t conceive of being reduced to a made-up creature, not my form of play. Though I have an appreciation for mythology, we now understand how it was a broken social mindset that spawned such legends. Such speculation would be disingenuous.
I have, however, always had an affection for my astral sign, Sagittarius. I always appreciated the idea of firing thought-provoking concepts into the air and sharing what I have experienced with others. This could also explain why my hair is spikey, like a bunch of little antennae sending and receiving signals from a world that I struggle to understand.
What is the first book you remember making an indelible impression on you?
I read The Hobbit followed by The Lord of the Rings trilogy when I was 10. This diversion provided much comfort to me in a dark time. In retrospect, it may have been a mistake to start with such a pinnacle of the genre, because everything I picked up afterwards was a disappointment. I am picky, I always have been, much to the chagrin of my parents, of my mother, who cooked for us.
I always had to have my version of everything: no nuts in my cookies and cinnamon rolls; no red sauce on my pasta, just butter, and parmesan cheese; and I still hate veggies to this day. To me, veggies taste like dirt or pond scum.
The lack of an adequate follow-up to Tolkien did spark my imagination, sent me exploring creative ideas of fantasy, but haunted by a powerful malicious darkness, these excursions took a turn that I did not intend. My writing, that began years later, is a direct product of the experiences of that time.
How do you develop your plot and characters?
My stories develop themselves and haunt me until I put them down on paper. The ideas that are revealed to me through immersive visions/daydreams contain a logic and detail beyond mere nighttime dreams. The work is from a compulsion rather than a desire to write.
Describe your writing space.
My office is a square room with two windows. In it is a large wooden desk, a chair, red carpet on the floor, with many books on shelves around me. I like cherry and walnut stained old hardwood. I do find that the amount of tech, required for my day job, gets in the way, such that it disrupts the natural flow of my creativity, and I am looking for a solution to that.
My desk tends to always be cluttered with papers and things, though I have been told that clutter helps with creativity, giving texture to the workspace. I tend to place pictures and notes of a current work on the blank spots of the wall directly in front of my desk. Though I don’t often look at them, their presence affects the subconscious and keeps me directed on the current work.
Discussion of a Decent Dream
by E. Curtis
GENRE: Dark Fantasy
In the fall of 1789, on the western edge of the Yorkshire Dales, a dense, persistent fog enshrouds the village of Ingleton. Shadowed spirits hide in the mist and bedevil the townsfolk, heralding a tragedy that has befallen one of their own.
Edmond continues to search for Alexandra, his fiancée, who disappeared the same night that the mist set upon their town. Presumed dead by all others, he visits Alexandra’s empty grave, desperate for any hint of what has become of her. Weary from the sleepless nights on his quest, no longer able to stay awake, Edmond falls into a dream before her headstone and there obtains clues from Alexandra as to her whereabouts.
Haunted all the while by a malevolent spirit, Edmond follows the trail that Alexandra left for him and enters the underworld, only to learn that he has been there before, and in fact, quite often. But more, he discovers how he is to blame for Alexandra’s disappearance.
A dark literary novel rich in imagery, Discussion of a Decent Dream unearths the consequences of a child’s decision to surrender his heart in exchange for unholy power and transcendent knowledge.
Discussion of a Decent Dream is a Finalist in Britain’s Wishing Self Book Awards in the Adult category.
We ignored the portent that crept into the countryside the day she disappeared. But in the weeks that followed, with no answers as to what had befallen her, with no assurance that she still lived, we came to understand, and most saw the worst in the blanket of mist that stopped time and shut us out from the rest of the world.
I had just turned twenty-one the summer of 1789 when Alexandra went missing. And after all our fruitless searching, in need of some direction, I snuck, under the cover of night, into the yard where her parents had laid their sorrow to rest. Falling to my knees before the stone of her empty grave I spoke with reverence, not for the hallowed ground, but for the call that brought me, as though somehow she could hear me.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Curtis draws on personal experiences of the otherworldly for his writing. Through dreams, visions, and waking encounters, his exposure to darkness has motivated him to detail what he has come to know of the preternatural. While a few short pieces have been published on an online literary magazine, Discussion of a Decent Dream is his first novel.
The book is on sale for $0.99 during the tour.
Buy link: www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B07BTHW1SY/
GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE
One randomly chosen a winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Please welcome Gabriele Russo to The Clog Blog. Welcome, Gabriele!
Hi, thank you for having me.
Tell us a little about yourself and your background?
I’m a Québécoise, born in Quebec City. When I was thirteen, I went to an English boarding school. I had to learn how to write the language on my own, which I did through books. Despite my love of reading, I didn’t start writing until my thirties. Oh, I tried a few times, but nothing more than a few pages ever came of it. In my twenties, I went to live in Strasbourg, where I did my Bachelor’s degree in History, with minors in Archeology and History of the Religions. I came back to Quebec, thinking I would continue my studies in International Relations, but the Political Science classes had me running out of there screaming “We’re all doomed!” So I started to work in the hospitality industry instead, and eventually ended up owning two restaurants – which wasn’t great for my sanity either… I sold my shares in them, wrote my first novel, then went back to University to learn how to write, and got my Master’s in Literary Studies, with a concentration in literary creation (the MFA doesn’t exist yet in French universities).
How do you make time to write?
It can be hard sometimes, even without a full-time day job. Like right now, I have a 50000-word unfinished first draft lying around my computer, and with traveling, visitors, promoting Incoherent Gods, I haven’t had a chance to write a word in two months. To be frank, I haven’t even tried making time, because I know I would be too distracted. When my life is quieter, I simply set aside the morning for writing, staying away from social media until I’m done writing the amount of words I set as an objective (usually 1.5 to 2K).
Do you ever get writer’s Block?
Not really. Sure, some days are harder than others; you have to force it a little. When that doesn’t work, I go back, tinker with what’s already written, add a paragraph there – often it gives me ideas, and I usually end up quite close to my objective. And if really nothing is coming out after 2 hours, I just let go, hope it’ll be better the next day.
How did you deal with Rejection Letters if you received any?
If you know a published fiction writer that has never received a rejection letter, then I hate them a little… It sucks, every single one breaks your heart, but you deal. You write NO on the cue card, and you send another query (after tweaking it, ideally), or you rewrite the book or even another one. If you can’t deal with rejection, don’t go into the arts, because after rejection comes criticism, which can be just as bad.
Can you tell us your story of getting, “The call”?
Actually, as good things come in pairs, I sort of had to make “the call”. Fiery Seas had had my manuscript for a couple of weeks when someone else I had queried requested it. I asked him to wait, which he was happy to do, but I also told Fiery Seas that someone else was interested and could they please give me an answer soon. I think they answered the next day offering a contract for three books. Right before Christmas – that was a very merry Christmas.
What genre are your books?
Fantasy. More specifically, I like to say they are satirical fantasy. Which I guess is comic Fantasy, but the humor is a little darker. You can find out more on a blog I wrote recently: https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/17138796-what-the-is-satirical-fantasy
I’ve also recently come across the expression “New Weird”, and I guess that could also apply, as well as Mythic and Paranormal.
What draws you to this genre?
I like that the humor has meaning, that it can be hidden and hard to catch, in opposition to waving it your face obvious. I also enjoy the fact that I can point out things I find ridiculous about our world (and there’s a lot of those), and by letting the setting and the story imply the criticism in a usually comic way, avoid ruffling too many feathers.
Do you have any advice for Aspiring Writers?
All kidding aside, if I had known then what I know now… Ok, maybe I would have done it anyway. My first advice would be to make sure this is really what you want to do: are you ready to invest the necessary efforts, time, and money? (For classes and other learning opportunities – I’m not in favor of paying to get published; there are too many scams out there to be certain of what you will be getting in return.) It took exactly 8 years, 4 drafts, 3 years at university before my first novel was published (and I’m Canadian, so those three years did not cost me a quarter of what they would cost in the US).
Second advice: do not go in this thinking you’re going to be the next J.K. Rowling and make a ton of money. 99% of authors don’t make enough to live on. Third: be very careful of scams. Sorry to insist on this, but it’s really the worst thing about the publishing world today, and the sharks cover all aspects of the process: writing, editing, representation, publishing and promotion. Every time something requires you to shell out money, examine it very, very carefully – if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. And if you’re still not sure, go to Absolute Write and/or Writer Beware.
Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?
Like most authors today, pretty much everywhere. Here are the links:
Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share with us?
Sure, here’s one from the chapter EVIL QUEENS in which the soul of Queen Louhi, having been pushed out of her body by the witch Chiloe, takes residence in Hercules’s:
Jupiter transincarnated a third time, materializing close to the coast, west of the kennels. And there was Hercules, lying unconscious in the middle of the path leading to the sea.
He rushed over the yard that separated them, fell to his knees beside the body and put his ear to the still chest.
His grandson’s heart was beating. Faint but regular. Jupiter raised his head and just as he was about to tap Hercules’s cheeks, he saw it: he’d been bitten. Louhi! Or rather, that Chiloe witch!
He wanted to scream. If he ever got his hands on…
Hercules’s eyes fluttered, interrupting the frustrating train of thought.
“Sonny? Sonny? Are you okay?”
The eyes opened. Something was wrong.
Oh, they were the right color and all, but SOMETHING was wrong. This wasn’t his grandson. Was he now a vampire drone?
Well, that was weird.
“Louhi?” He grabbed Hercules’s collar. “What the hells are you doing in my grandson? Get out!”
“It’s not that simple. And anyway, don’t worry, he’s still in here.” A shadow lifted from the eyes. “Hi, Pappy. It’s okay. It’s just until we find her body and push the witch out. You know I have to help her any way I can.”
Letting go of the collar, Jupiter hit the ground with his fist. “It’s not right. It’s just… not right! How is it even possible?”
A thin veil of cynicism that comes with great age obscured the eyes as Louhi came back to the fore. “When a vampire drinks from a human without killing them, it creates a spiritual link. All the stronger if said human has drunk back, even if it’s only a few drops. You often hear of what happens to the humans, but it also affects the vampire. Or actually, the vampire’s soul. Which is why I feel the connection, but Chiloe doesn’t. This link creates a… I guess you could call it an awareness, but it’s so much more. Anyway, it’s why most vampires end up killing their drones: the pockets of mind-numbing emptiness quickly become unbearable.”
“My grandson’s your drone?” Jupiter grabbed the collar again.
“No,” said Louhi’s unruffled voice. “He’s protected from that by his immortal genes. His danger is of becoming. Now the link, the link happens in all cases of blood transfer, although it does fade after a while if the victim turns.”
“Fine! He’s not your drone! What is he then? A puppet? A Djinny lamp? A-a-a…”
“Jupiter! He gave me permission.”
“Oh, I bet he did. You know how much he—”
“Pappy!” A fleeting light, now gone. Jupiter saw that if Louhi hadn’t known before, she certainly knew now. And was not a little confused about it.
“Jupiter, my soul can’t find its way back to my body. Skuld cut my bonds to it. It’s really the only way.”
With a deep breath, he stood and brushed his knees. It wasn’t her fault. But oh, how his fists itched! Soon he would need to punch someone, or something.
Instead, he held out his hand, helping Hercules/Louhi up.
“Jupiter, this is a major advantage. I know my body’s weaknesses. She can’t control my soul anymore because the bond to my body has been cut, so the poison doesn’t affect me now.”
“And what if we don’t find her? Or what if we need to destroy your body to destroy her?”
“I doubt it will come to that. A vampire’s body is very hard to destroy, much harder than a god’s. But here’s my promise: whatever happens, I will leave your grandson’s body in less than twenty-four hours… No Hercules, if I stay any longer, there is too great a risk of our personalities melding.”
Jupiter repressed the urge to slap his grandson silly. “Louhi, you swear? On your immortal soul?”
“Okay, then. Let’s find that witch. But how?”
“Hercules said something distracted her, that it’s probably why he’s still alive.”
“Ba’al was going to her lair, to get her body and whatever else he could lay his hands on. I think he was also hoping he’d find you⎯ her. This is getting confusing.”
“Maybe she felt him, or he triggered an alarm. Do you know where the lair is? He might need help.”
“Against you? No offense Herc⎯ Louhi, but Ba’al is a titan. They’re not all quick on the uptake I grant you – I mean, I was able to trick my father quite easily if that gives you an idea – but they’re strong like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Yes, Ba’al is strong, but have you ever seen him hurt anyone? I know it’s not that he can’t, he just won’t. Add to that the fact that Chiloe is wearing my body.”
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. The kid said she lived on one of the southern isla⎯”
“Shhhh,” said Hercules in his own voice.
He laid his hand on Jupiter’s shoulder and listened attentively for a moment before whispering: “I hear a boat. Let’s hide, maybe it’s her.”
They crouched behind a bush, keeping the path and the beach in view.
“And if it is?” asked Jupiter. “What do we do?”
“I don’t know,” said Louhi. “For now, let’s focus on not losing track of her.”