Remembering Kindness - Vyrdin’s Dream by Michelle Franklin (GUEST POST)

Remembering Kindness: Vyrdin’s Dream 

PART 3

                Their short walk to the infirmary was made in oppressive silence, the brickmaker sensible of Vyrdin’s pained aspect, and Vyrdin aware of Gearrog’s brimming curiosity. He felt his eyes everywhere: on his knotted bramble of curls, his wounded arm, his poor clothes, and the more the brickmaker’s eyes wandered, the more questions Vyrdin felt he was on the point of asking. He did not know why Mr. Callaghan would not allow him to leave, nor did he know why he must work whilst other young boys of similar age were allowed to attend classes at the church, sit at the table and eat with their families, play at various games and hold high revel when he must be tamed and timid. He did not know why his hands trembled or why he was made to endure all the deprivations which he was only now being made aware of, and he wished that the brickmaker’s eyes would stop asking him so many unanswerable questions. It was insufferable to be the subject of so much conjecture and confusion when he was confused himself, but the cleric was in, he was available, he was ready and willing to receive him as a patient, and all other disquieting cogitations may be lain aside.

                The brickmaker told the story of how he found Vyrdin working in such unfavourable conditions without the necessary attire. Vyrdin accepted the plaintive looks on this point, for there was nothing else he could do to refute them, and said nothing when the cleric politely scolded him as to the state of his shoes.

                “Those must give you chilblains,” said the cleric. “You must take care not to get frostbite.”

                Vyrdin listened to the invective without much attending it; he had no manner in which to alter his situation, much less contrive for more suitable clothes. He thanked the cleric for his concern and hoped they might move on to healing now that he had gone through the motions of embarrassment.

                The wound was displayed, the cleric was duly shocked, the brickmaker suffered the same horrified astonishment, and Vyrdin alone remained grave and unaffected.

                “How could you have let that go for so long, looking like that,” was the cleric’s lamenting reproof. “Come,” sighing and shaking his head, “that must be healed immediately.”

                Vyrdin was thus led toward the inner room of the infirmary. He entered the small sanitarium and was instructed to remove his wool shirt, but he was hesitant to do so while the brickmaker was by.

                “I’ll be off for a minute,” said Gearrog, sensing that Vyrdin wished to be alone. “I’ll be back to see you off home.”

                Home: there was a word that fell empty against Vyrdin’s heart. There was no flourish of affection, no anxious solicitation awaiting him at the feller’s farm. He made the requisite nods and turned away, and when the brickmaker had gone, the door was closed, and Vyrdin removed his woolen shirt.

                A moment of anxiety rushed on him as he began to undress: he thought he had forgot to wear his linen tunic for insulation, but when he reached into his torn sweater, he sighed in relief and could be easy. His staid expression might hide many miseries, but the lash would expose what he would otherwise secret away.  He kept his tunic on while the cleric did his work, and only a few minutes under the healer’s care was enough to undo all the damage that a few days’ neglect had done.

                “We are fortunate that the infection was not as severe as it appeared,” said the cleric, passing a glowing hand along Vyrdin’s forearm. “There, that should keep you for a while. You will have to apply a liniment to it to keep the infection from returning, but I think we’ve—” He paused, looked rather confused, and then moving to closer to Vyrdin’s side he said, “What made these marks on your back?”

                Vyrdin flew into a silent panic: he was sitting, and the cleric was standing over him, giving the healer all the advantage of height to see everything that Vyrdin could have hid. He must have leaned forward too far, exposing his upper back, and though it cost him some dignity, Vyrdin pulled on the front of his tunic to hinder the cleric from seeing further down his back. “Harrowing accident,” was his somewhat restrained and mortified excuse.

                “Accident?” the cleric repeated. A look of misgiving succeeded here. “I understand that accidents on farms are common, but a harrow cannot have made marks like that by merely falling on you. It must have been dragged across your back to make scars so long. If you will let me look at them, perhaps—”

                “I’m fine,” Vyrdin asserted, standing and swiping his woolens from the adjacent chair.

                The cleric’s suspicions increased, and Vyrdin’s hastening to dress and eagerness to leave only expatiated his concerns. “You may feel very well,” said he, in a kinder hue, “but there may be some lasting damage which might be causing you indiscernible harm.”              

                Vyrdin did not stay to hear the cleric’s entreaties; he had taken the liniment, had said his hurried thanks, and was gone before any further conjectures could be made. Disobedience by his own design might be rectified, but having his case reported to the authorities and having Mr. Carrighan disturbed with inquiries as to why his charge was marred was certain to bring unconscionable torment. Better to be silent and submissive and safe than difficult, and as Vyrdin hastened back to the farm, he told himself that reporting his sorrows to the king’s men should only bring more despondency than his case was worth. His master should never let him go, and he should never want to leave, for who else would look after a young boy whom nobody else would suffer to welcome into their homes? Forever had he been overlooked until Mr. Carrighan had accepted him, and though he was a man of vicious conduct and character, he had taught him to be useful, had fed him once or twice every other day, and had given him a place to sleep, which was more than anyone else had done. It was selfishness to have expected a family when he had never done anything to deserve it, and to have his case reported and examined was to lose everything he had gained — though he had gained little — by his removal to Farriage.

Check out Michelle's Tour Page to find out where the next instalment in her story will be posted!

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Khantara

Volume 1

Khantara is a Haanta conqueror, meant to wage war and rule over the enemy nation of Thellis, but after vanquishing Thellis and occupying a construction of a Haanta outpost, he meets Anelta, a woman enslaved by her own people bearing a brand of servitude on her neck. Khantara contrives to save her from a cruel home and bring her to the refuge his people can provide, but how can he do so successfully when the eyes of Thellis are upon him?

Release: November 16, 2012 / $2.99 (ebook) / $11.99 (print)

Epic Fantasy, Romance

Purchase at: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Book Depository | Smashwords 

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About the Author



Michelle Franklin is a small woman of moderate consequence who writes many, many books about giants, romance, and chocolate.



You can find more about Michelle over at her blog: http://thehaanta.blogspot.ca/



Twitter: https://twitter.com/MrsDenAsaan



Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Michelle-Franklin-and-the-Haanta-series/129616710425835

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The Story Behind Plague by H.W. “Buzz” Bernard (GUEST POST)

The Story Behind Plague

By H.W. “Buzz” Bernard



The inspiration for Plague sprang from, ironically, a nonfiction book: Richard Preston’s 1994 spine-tingling best seller about the Ebola virus, The Hot Zone.  As I read Preston’s book I became fascinated by Ebola and, quite frankly, scared to death by the thought there might be an airborne version of it.  Thriller writers, naturally, love things that scare folks.  So, I began thinking about how I could craft my fright into a terrifying novel.



But that didn’t happen immediately.  I didn’t really embark on becoming a novelist until 2000.  It took another three years after that before I began crafting Plague.  Even then, I set it aside for awhile to work on what  eventually became my first published novel, Eyewall, and didn’t get back to Plague until 2010.  The final version of the novel is the product of about five rewrites, both major and minor.



Now, let me tell you a few cool things--think of it as insider information--about Plague.



There probably should be a warning label on the book.  The opening scene is pretty darn graphic, as are parts of chapters 15 and 27 describing death by Ebola.  They’re paragraphs you wouldn’t want to read just before, during, or after eating.  Why so graphic?  I want the reader to realize just how high the stakes are for my protagonist . . . and society in general.



My editor described the ending as “kick ass.” That pleases me.  But here’s a point to ponder: How does a writer create a “kick-ass” ending with a female Methodist minister involved?



There’s a zinger in the epilogue. I thought that was kind of neat.  It’s not something you see often.  Usually epilogues merely wrap up what happened to the main characters in the wake of the drama.  (Hey, no peeking at the ending and epilogue before you read the book.)



The original title of the novel was The Koltsovo Legacy.  (The reason will become obvious as you read the book.)  The name derives from the Koltsovo Institute of Molecular Biology, a real place in Siberia.  But I didn’t want people to think the novel was set in Russia. It’s not.  The stage is Atlanta. Besides, my publisher, BelleBooks, wanted a one-word title, following along the lines of Eyewall and my work-in-progress, Supercell.



So, if you happen to have read and enjoyed Eyewall, I think I can offer you an equally as thrilling, but different, ride in Plague.



Just remember my caution about the rather graphic scenes of death by Ebola.

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About the Author:

H. W. “Buzz” Bernard is a writer and retired meteorologist.  His debut novel, Eyewall, which one reviewer called a “perfect summer read,” was released in May 2011 and went on to become a best-seller in Amazon’s Kindle Store.

His second novel, Plague, came out in September 2012.

He’s currently at work on his third novel, Supercell.

Before retiring, Buzz worked at The Weather Channel in Atlanta, Georgia, as a senior meteorologist for 13 years.  Prior to that, he served as a weather officer in the U.S. Air Force for over three decades.  He attained the rank of colonel and received, among other awards, the Legion of Merit.

His “airborne” experiences include a mission with the Air Force Reserve Hurricane Hunters, air drops over the Arctic Ocean and Turkey, and a stint as a weather officer aboard a Tactical Air Command airborne command post (C-135).

In the past, he’s provided field support to forest fire fighting operations in the Pacific Northwest, spent a summer working on Alaska’s arctic slope, and served two tours in Vietnam.  Various other jobs, both civilian and military, have taken him to Germany, Saudi Arabia and Panama.

He’s a native Oregonian and attended the University of Washington in Seattle where he earned a bachelor’s degree in atmospheric science; he also studied creative writing.

Buzz currently is vice president of the Southeastern Writers Association.  He’s a member ofInternational Thriller Writers, the Atlanta Writers Club and Willamette Writers.

He and his wife Christina live in Roswell, Georgia, along with their fuzzy and sometimes overactive Shih-Tzu, Stormy.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | GOODREADS | LINKEDIN

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About the Book:

Deep in the secret recesses of a Cold War lab, the Russians created tons of deadly bio-weapons.  Now, decades later, a protege of that Russian research is about to release weaponized Ebola into the heart of the South's most iconic city: Atlanta, where the symbols of American "decadence" range from a happily diverse population to the Coca-Cola museum and CNN headquarters.

A preliminary test of the horrifying virus demonstrates the unspeakable suffering of its victims--and alerts the Centers for Disease Control that a terrible pandemic is in the making.  CDC Virologist Dr. Dwight Butler begins a frantic effort to track down the source of the virus before it's too late.

For new BioDawn CEO Richard Wainwright, it quickly becomes clear that the "accidental" plane crash that killed the pharmaceutical company's entire executive hierarchy may have some connection to the evolving threat.  Suddenly, Richard is being stalked by a hit woman.  He and Butler join forces to find the lone terrorist at the center of a plan that could unleash the Black Plague of the 21st century.

AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE

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Waiting On Wednesday - Gods and Monsters by Chuck Wendig

"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted by Jill over at Breaking the Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating.



This week's pre-publication "can't-wait-to-read" selection is:



Gods and Monsters: Unclean Spirits by Chuck Wendig

May 7, 2013



The gods and goddesses are real. And they are here on Earth.

A polytheistic pantheon—a tangle of gods and divine hierarchies—once kept the world at an arm’s length, warring with one another, using mankind’s belief and devotion to give them power. In this way, the world had balance: a grim and bloody balance, but a balance just the same.



But a single god sought dominance and gathered his armies of angels behind him to oust the other gods in a shattering of the cosmic order, a sundering of the divinities. As Lucifer fell to Hell, the gods and goddesses fell to earth.



And it’s there they remain—seemingly eternal, masquerading as humans and managing only a fraction of the power they once had as gods. They fall to old patterns, collecting sycophants and worshippers in order to war against one another in the battle for the hearts of men. They bring with them their children young and old, demi-gods who are half-human, half-divine. And they bring with them their monstrous races—crass abnormalities created to serve the gods. Undead eunuch magicians. Rampaging minotaurs. Shapeshifting yokai.



They would do anything to usher in a rebirth of the old ways. To reclaim the seat of true power.





Although Mockingbird and Blackbirds didn't really catch my eye, despite being very well received, this one sounds like a must-read.

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I, Crimsonstreak by Matt Adams (REVIEW)

I, Crimsonstreak by Matt Adams

Published May 15 2013 by Candlemark & Gleam

352 Pages



Synopsis:



Framed by his father, "reformed" supervillain Colonel Chaos, super-speedster Chris Fairborne, AKA Crimsonstreak, is sent to the Clermont Institution for the Criminally Insane. A hero surrounded by dastardly inmates and heartless guards, Chris struggles to keep his wits about him, until the arrival of some unexpected new "guests" at the facility provides him with a means for escape. Once out, though, he discovers that the world he knew is gone, replaced by a fascist, supposedly utopian state run by none other than Colonel Chaos himself.



With the heroes of the world locked away or fighting in a disorganized resistance, Crimsonstreak teams up with a snarky British butler and a teenage superhero-to-be. Together, the unlikely (and bickering) allies must take down Crimsonstreak's dad and set the world right. Not easy when your only powers are super-speed and looking good in spandex. But hey, someone's got to save the world.





Review:



I really had high hopes for this book. I love the concept and superhumans have always been an interest for me. Story starts out great but takes a swan dive as story unfolds.



*The Clermont Institute for the Criminally Insane: Serving evil-doers and those in need since 1972.*



Dark plague, Crusading Comet, Infrared, Crossworld, *His parents* Miss Lightspeed and Colonel Chaos (his current enemy)



After escaping from institute Crimesonstreak meets with a pot headed cheetah eating Cheetos after a long swim he ends up in New York.



In search of his mother's death and his father turned villain. Crimson finds the opposite of what he thought and heard from others.



Pop culture, funny dialogue and some interesting characters (see list above) but just didn't do it for me for a top read.

(as posted on Goodreads/Netgalley)

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The Daylight War by Peter V. Brett (REVIEW)

An improvement on the first two instalments in almost every way, The Daylight War sees Peter V. Brett successfully pull all the elements together and really hit his stride. Don't get me wrong, The Warded Man and The Desert Spear were both solid reads, but the technique was a bit rough around the edges, especially in the transition between the two, where it almost seemed if the story had gotten away from him.



Much as he did with the second instalment, Brett casts us back in time to open up the novel, introducing us to the back story of Inevera. It's a truly fascinating tale, perhaps more so than her husband's, which truly serves to flesh out her character and better definer her edges. Rather than transform her from villain to hero, as the opening of The Desert Spear did for Jaridr, it lays the ground for a more sympathetic understanding of her motives, and establishes her as a much more cunning and dangerous foe. Most interesting of all, we get to see the 'truth' behind her die casting, the unvarnished facts as she reads them, not as she interprets them for others.



In terms of technique, Brett does a far better job of weaving in her history while keeping the story moving forward, although I suspect that may be a deliberate move on Brett's part. It's only in seeing how he treats Inevera's story that we truly recognize how Jardir, like Arlen, had so much uninterrupted space to dedicated to his back story. That dedication, especially when contrasted to Inevera's more traditional telling, puts the two on an even footing, so to speak, further clouding the question as to which (if either) is the Deliverer.



In terms of the other characters, Renna proves that her heroics in the closing chapters of the second book were not just an anomaly, while also developing her relationship with Arlen in some rather intriguing ways. There's a desperate sort of happiness there that is entirely unexpected, humanizing Arlen even as he demonstrates just how close he's come to the Core. I wasn't sure about her role after the last book, and I still have a nagging fear that there's either a fall or a betrayal in her future, but Brett succeeds in making her a partner worthy of The Warded Man himself. More importantly, he doesn't allow questions of love and duty to blind Arlen to the truth, resulting in some surprising (but welcome) revelations late in the story.



Already a favourite of mine, Rojer really outdoes himself in this volume, earning himself a place at the forefront of the battle. He grows and matures as the mantle of responsibility settles a little more comfortably upon his shoulders; he makes an awkward, politically arranged, suspicion-laden marriage not only work, but become a high point of the story; and he even comes to terms with his past, as he's forced to publicly confront Arrick's misdeads . . . and lingering legacy. He's not the flashy, attention-demanding hero that Arlen is, but neither is he the meek, content to linger in the shadows, sidekick that he seemed set up to be in the first two volumes.



If there were to be a weak spot for me in the characterization, though, it would definitely be with Leesha. The drama, the romantic entanglements, and the teenager-like angst were just too much for me. The power and the strength that she showed in the first two volumes really seemed to be leached away here, as she began feeling sorry for herself and almost insisting that she be defined by the men in her life. It's a shame, because she clearly has a significant role to play in future instalments, but perhaps Brett is taking her down a few notches to that he can make her resolution more powerful.



The story progression follows a weird arc once again, with some early developments, a lot of waiting, and a premature climax. Fortunately, there's a lot of story between developments, with the evolution of the Hollow, the new application of wards, and the rather stunning theft (and subsequent enhancement) of tactics by the demons more than enough to keep things compelling. It's an even darker tale than the first two volumes, with stakes both grim and dire, yet there's a sense of hope that's entirely refreshing. Once again, though, there's an oddly impatient transition to the true climax of the story, with an abbreviated major confrontation, and a cliffhanger ending that is as brilliant as it is excruciatingly painful.



Compelling, exciting, and thoroughly entertaining, The Daylight War is certain to please fans of the first two books. Even if it doesn't quite tell the story I expected, and denies us the fight we most desire until the very end, it's still a beautiful piece of storytelling.







Published February 12th 2013 by Del Ray

Hardcover, 639 pages

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Secondhand Sunday with Peter (Stoney) Emshwiller

Even in a world driven by reader trends, and fuelled by the instant availability of e-books, there is still nothing that can quite compare to wandering the dusty shelves of a secondhand bookstore and discovering a hidden gem, wedged deep within a stack of well-read paperbacks. With that in mind, welcome to Secondhand Sundays, a new feature that celebrates the old-fashioned joy of hunting down those tattered-and-torn titles we've heard of, but never seen; and of discovering bent-and-broken books we never knew we wanted, but suddenly knew we had to have.



As I'm able to reconnect with those authors who continue to stock my shelves, I'd like to use this opportunity to celebrate those books that first kindled my love of books, and those experiences that remind me of why that love has never faded.

Dusting off the shelves this weekend is Peter “Stoney” Emshwiller, an award-winning artist, novelist, actor, and filmmaker who has touched many of the genres and mediums that define pop-culture.

Q: Thanks for taking the time to stop by today, Peter. During the early 90s, you published a pair of science fiction novels centered around the character of Watly Caiper and the idea of body-swapping. How did that story first come about?



A: Thanks for having me! And thanks for caring about these ancient, dusty tomes!

As for the origins of “The Host” and it’s sequel “Short Blade,” the premise actually came to me pretty quickly. I lived in Manhattan throughout the eighties and was often taken with how, unlike in some other cities, the rich and the poor regularly “rubbed elbows” with each other (on subways, buses, sidewalks, movie theatres, etc). Of course, at the end of the day, these “castes” parted way as the rich zipped up to their penthouses and the poor shuffled home to their dank tenements.



One day I was staring off down a New York street, sipping a beer at a sidewalk tavern, when I had one of those “What If” moments science fiction writers sometimes talk about. I started sketching the avenue before me on my napkin but then slowly, deliberately added a second street level five stories above the first. My “What If” was: “What if there was a LITERAL division between the classes? What if, in the future, a second street level of Manhattan was constructed high above the first for the rich and powerful, trapping the poor down on the lower, original streets?”



The idea intrigued me. Not just as a possible book, but visually. The image was compelling. In my head it was almost like a movie I wanted to see. (I tend to be way more visual than verbal. I know – why the heck am I a writer then??)



And like many fun and/or wacky thoughts, this split-level Manhattan spawned other ideas. As I continued to ponder this concept, I began to wonder what those bored, pampered, isolated rich people in the clean, opulent, sun-dappled land up above might do for recreation? For kicks? In their privileged, safe, dull world, how would they have a thrilling vacation? That’s when the idea of “Hosting” came to me. So the next “What If” was: “What if the rich could project themselves, temporarily, down below into the body of an unfortunate, well-paid volunteer – AKA a ‘Host’?”



And then the last “What If” hit me, the one that got me finally pulling out a pen and a yellow legal pad and starting to write. “What if, while one of the idle rich above was controlling one of those bodies below, they somehow removed all the safety-measures and identification devices and used this poor Host to commit a horrible assassination? Would it be the perfect murder?”



Q: The Host and Short Blade offer a significant level of world-building, social commentary, and gender exploration. What was the original ‘hook’ for you in coming up with the concept, and how did the rest of the elements come to shape themselves around that.

A: Growing up, my siblings Eve and Susan were (and are) two strong, talented, creative women (they’re now a scientist and a screenwriter, respectively), while my mom, Carol Emshwiller, has often been referred to as a “feminist” sf writer, and my pop, the late Ed Emshwiller, was a visual artist who regularly explored sexuality and relationships in his paintings, videos, experimental films, and groundbreaking computer graphics. So I suppose that, growing up in this funky, artsy-fartsy (and rather female-centric) household, exploring politics and gender stuff came completely natural for me. In fact, things about gender constraints, relationships, sex, sexism, sexuality, rigid societal roles, male/female stereotypes, and gender inequality have always been fascinating to me. I remember as a teenager eagerly reading “Everything You Wanted to Know about Sex” under my covers by flashlight, as well as regularly stealing my mom’s old Ms magazines and my dad’s old Playboys. I guess I covered my bases.



So in my writing I enjoy playing with gender bias and sexual preconceptions. For example, the lead character in my first novel is male, but wants desperately to be a “mother,” which in my version of the future isn’t a gender-specific title. It only means “primary caregiver.” And in this made-up world of mine, “fathering” a child can refer to either gender as well -- it means being party to biologically creating the kid but having nothing to do with raising it.



In these books I also toy a lot with sexual behaviours and customs that, in our current culture, would be considered completely unacceptable. But, for the most part, it seems to me that many of these behaviours are, when you really think about it, taboo for no particular, logical reasons.



I created a dystopian (yet kinda semi-utopian?) society which is mostly much more free and open gender-wise and sexuality-wise than ours, yet much more repressive and fascist when it comes to class, race, and politics.



And speaking of politics, there’s no question that my own left-of-center views come through throughout these two novels. I didn’t necessarily do it on purpose (I honestly just wanted to tell an exciting adventure story) but I suppose I couldn’t help it. In fact someone recently shocked me by announcing that my second book, Short Blade, felt like a primer for today’s “occupy” movement. Hmmm.



Q: In terms of reader reactions, what is the strangest or most surprising reaction to those novels that you can remember?



A: As a straight white male, I was particularly delighted to see my books regularly listed among pro LGBT and pro minority works, and to hear people say repeatedly that my novels provide positive, strong role models for those communities. How awesome is that?



Another nifty (yet weird) thing: years after these books were published, I was informed by three completely different, random sources – two different NYC doormen and a cop – that The Host somehow became a popular “pass around” book among Manhattan’s homeless population. Very flattering I suppose, yet also poignant. The idea of people living on the street reading and sharing my novel was both wonderful and very, very sad to me.



On the other hand, I was absolutely shocked and dismayed when one early reviewer insisted my books had “Objectivist” (Ayn Rand-ian) overtones (apparently simply because I had one character speak about how certain kinds of “selfishness” can be positive – like when you give a gift to someone not just to be nice, but also because it makes YOU feel good inside to do it.)



Yikes. Personally I’d rather not be associated with any of Rand’s views, thank you very much.



Q: At the time, you were coming off a successful stint as Managing Editor of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone Magazine. How much did your years managing short fiction there have to do with you making the move to a novel-length story arc.



A: I can honestly say that, though I’d been trying to write fiction for as long as I can remember (short stories, screenplays, teleplays, and an early, aborted novel attempt), I didn't really, truly learn how to write until two things happened…



One was spending all those years as an editor at TZ. (I was distinctly under-qualified for the job at the start, and am very grateful I had the opportunity. From carefully sifting through my fellow wannabees work in the “slush pile,” to proofreading and copyediting stories by the masters, to trying my hand at writing nonfiction articles, it taught me sooooo much.)



The second pivotal thing was: actually WRITING that first novel from beginning to end. Nothing teaches you more about writing a novel than actually completing a novel. Best training ever. Anyone out there who wants advice about learning how to write a novel? Here’s my advice: Write a novel. I’m just super lucky I actually sold what was really a learning process. In the end I was fortunate enough to get paid for my education. “On the job training” at its best.



Q: The Twilight Zone, for many readers, represents an early milestone in the speculative fiction genre. How did it feel to be a part of that legacy?



A: It was HUGE for me when I snagged the job as Managing Editor of The Twilight Zone magazine. I grew up glued to reruns of the original show on late night TV (and later became a fan of the magazine, as well), and the thought of being even remotely connected to all that brilliance was a really big deal for me. So being even a teensy part of this great legacy was a terrific honour I didn’t take lightly. Not for a minute. Frankly, from the start I felt WAY out of my league.

I still suspect they only hired me because I underbid everyone else vying for the position. In my job interview, TZ’s editor-in-chief, Tappan King, asked me what the absolute lowest salary I could possibly take and still survive. No joke. He liked me and we seemed to click so he wanted to hire me, but I was unproven and he had to sell me to the muckety-mucks who held the purse strings.

Well, back then I was living around the corner from CBGB’s in the crack-ridden East Village – a pretty dicey neighbourhood in those days. Great for punk rock music, but not so great if your grandma wanted to visit for tea. And my one-room apartment was incredibly cheap and incredibly tiny. (As the old joke goes: It was so small that when I put the key in the front door I broke the back window.) So my expenses were so damned low ($150 a month for rent) that I offered to do the Managing Editor job for, brace yourselves, $12,000 a year. Yup. Even in the mid eighties that was crazy low.



So they hired me.

I’m very glad they did. Not just because of my love of The Twilight Zone (and of all Serling’s work) and the opportunities and training and connections and life-long friendships it afforded me… and not just because my salary (thank God!) eventually grew… but also because, during my tenure there, I myself eventually interviewed and hired an incredibly talented associate editor who was, unlike me, OVER-qualified for the gig. She was very smart. Very well educated. Very sharp. Very experienced. And also super hot. SUPER hot. Hawt!! DAMN!!

I married her. We’ve now been married going on 22 years now.



A marriage made in the Twilight Zone.



Q: Is there a story from Twilight Zone Magazine that stands out in your mind, or a contributor you are particularly proud (or pleased) to have had the opportunity to work with?



A: Wow, that’s a very hard one. There were so many amazing writers we published over the years that I was almost always star struck. From “celebrities” like Steven King and Dean Koontz to “literary masters” like John Updike and Joyce Carol Oates, it was a great honour to play even a small part in bringing their words to print. (Not to mention all the many brilliant lesser-known writers -- as well as those who got their very first start in our pages and then went on to have terrific careers in the biz.)



I also remember the flip side of being star struck: when I was intimidated and scared by the greats. Hearing commands from my editor-in-chief like, “Hey – go give Harlan Ellison a call and find out why the heck he hasn’t signed our contract yet,” would always bring a pit-bull-sized lump into my throat.



Q: Following your time on Twilight Zone Magazine, you shifted shelves and slipped behind the cellophane wrap, taking on Managing Editor duties at Gallery and Fox. How did that transition come about?



A: Yeah, weird times. In the end rumour had it that Twilight Zone Magazine was never actually a money maker for the company, which raked in its real cash off “men’s magazines.” Word was that TZ was only kept up-and-running because it gave them “legitimacy” and was a nice tax write off, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. But the bottom line is, one day they had their fill of us and pulled the plug on Twilight Zone Magazine. They fired every single one on the staff except me, who they instead offered a job working as managing editor on their “gentlemen’s sophisticates” (aka, um, “stroke rags”). Not sure why I was the one they singled out to stay. It may have been largely due to the creepy “70s porn star” moustache I sported in those days.



Since I didn't have another job waiting, I decided to stay and give it a shot. Plus, being a straight male, my inner 13-year-old was super curious about working in porn. Would the offices be full of naked women? Could I sit in on the photo shoots? Would I be paid in sexual favours? Sadly: No, no, and no.



Q: While some readers tend to look down on that genre of magazine, there’s a natural connection there to your time with Twilight Zone Magazine, with Stephen King just one of the authors to appear in Gallery more than once. Are there any stories from your years there that stick with you?



A: Yeah, we actually published a lot of great fiction as well as non-fiction and investigative journalism. But there’s no denying the main focus was on displaying (exploiting?) naked women. I’m not ashamed to have worked in that field for a time, but to be honest my heart wasn’t in it so those years are pretty much a blur. None of the work I did there really stuck in my head. I do remember that our two publishers, who were the sons of the owner, were named Brian and Russell. This eventually led me to refer to them both affectionately as Brussel, which then eventually led me to refer to them both not-so-affectionately as the Sprout Brothers, which then eventually led to me to getting my ass fired. (In fairness, I’m pretty sure the fact I spent more time at my desk working on my second novel than on doing my actual job as a pornographer may have been a factor as well.)



Q: Given that both magazines are known more for their picture spreads than their stories, I have to ask, was there a sustained ‘fun’ element there, or was it just business?



A: Truth is I didn’t take the porn business very seriously (unlike most others working there) so my days working for the “gentleman’s sophisticates” were strange indeed. The environment was actually very corporate, non-sexual, and strangely cold and prudish, and no one but me seemed to realize how weird that was.

At one point I took one of the tiny ads we ran in the back of one of our magazines and enlarged it on the company copy machine. It was, of course, censored with a black bar (as everything explicit was back in those days), but it obviously showed a very limber, very well-endowed fellow happily… um… “tooting his own horn,” if you catch my drift. Underneath the image in this ad (which we ran every single darned month, mind you) were the proud words “****ing my own ****!”



So, for those instances when I didn’t want to be bothered in my office, I scotch-taped an enlarged copy of this ad, with the added words “Please do not disturb” above it, on my door. “Please do not disturb: ****ing my own ****.”



The powers-that-be were not amused.



At another point I got into a heated argument with the publishers about our monthly “Girl Next Door” photo spread feature. I honestly, genuinely wanted to know why we couldn’t just call her a “Woman Next Door” so that at least we acknowledged she was an adult. Calling a naked woman in a sex magazine a “girl” was kinda creepy, no?



Again, they were not amused.



Q: Getting back to the novels, The Host has been optioned for film several times. Do you foresee a day when a film might see the light of day?



A: I sure hope so. I think it’d make an awesome movie in the right hands. I’ve been super lucky in that, over the years, the book has been optioned by a veritable “Who’s Who” of Hollywood powerhouse producers, studios, and directors, but so far nothing’s ever come of it in the end.



There’s some very exciting movement recently in that department though, but unfortunately I’m not allowed to talk about it at the moment. I’ll keep you posted as soon as I’m free to do so.



Q: Any personal preferences in terms of casting or direction, or would you just be relieved to finally see your work on screen?



A: After all these years, I’d mostly just be relieved, as you put it. But that’s not to say that I wouldn't squeeeeee with joy if Abrams, Spielberg, or Nolan signed on to direct, with Will Smith, Ryan Gosling, or Jamie Foxx starring, and Michael Giacchino doing the score. But I can’t be picky at this point.



A fascinating part of the film-option process is that, over the years as things went in and out of development, I got to read a whole buncha scripts based on The Host. Quite an interesting experience. It’s very weird to see someone else’s take on your own work. Some of them were both good AND scrupulously faithful to my original story, while others were completely different and yet were not only good but, to be honest, in certain ways BETTER than my book, and still others seemed to have nothing at all to do with my novel and felt a bit more like really bad, feature-length episodes of Mannix.



Q: I know you’ve had significant involvement with Hollywood on the artistic side, working in set dressing, art direction, and special effects. In that respect, how much involvement would you want to have with a movie version of The Host?



A: Excellent question. I’d certainly love to be in the loop and have some input in those areas, but I know just enough to realize that there are many, many folks out there who are WAY more talented and skilled in those departments than I am. (As an example, during one option period a few years back, an artist was hired by the Bruckheimer team to draw some preliminary concept drawings of this world I had originally created. Wow. They were amazing, and, frankly, way cooler and more detailed than anything I had originally imagined in my head. A humbling moment.)

Even before I worked in the art departments of films and TV shows, I enjoyed dabbling in the visual arts. In fact, there was a time during my Twilight Zone days when I tried to channel my dad and had myself a blast doing painting and illustrating for various magazines -- including TZ itself (I’ve included some examples of these here) but I never did it for a living.



But, I digress. Back to your question about how I’d like to be involved in a Host film? Truth is, in the years since the books were published I’ve mostly been making my living as an actor. (Writing, art, and acting have all been passions since I was a kid.) So, honestly, the biggest thrill would be if I could arrange to have even a teensy-weenie part in a movie based on my book. Come on -- how cool would that be?!



“Did you notice that funny-looking weird old dude hamming his three lines up in that scene in the sex club? That was the author!”



Q: With so many works from that era being rediscovered digitally, are there any plans in the works to bring back the novels in e-book format, and introduce them to a new generation?



A: Funny you should ask! Both these books were just recently digitized and I’m currently knee-deep in the tedious process of proofreading and formatting the very-buggy scans. Hopefully they’ll be available as e-books within the year. I’m quite curious how that will work out. E-publishing is a whole new world for me. It’s very, um, science fictiony, if you will.



Q: It’s been twenty years since Short Blade saw print. Is there another novel inside you somewhere, another long-form story waiting to be told?



A: 20 years? Really? No way! Jeeze! (DAMN, I’m getting’ old.)

Well, writing-wise, I’ve spent the last few years focussed mostly on collaborating on film and TV scripts and then pitching them endlessly to various Los Angeles producers and studios. The pitching process in Hollywood is as strange, entertaining, frustrating, and bizarre as you might imagine.



(Ah, the stories I could tell…. But that‘s for another interview.)



Novel-wise, I recently wrote my very first non-science-fiction book. It’s a smutty, quirky, romantic, deeply-offensive comedic novel called “Privilege and the Hummer Girl.” (Yes, as the title might suggest, I continue to be obsessed with sex, gender, politics, and class.) I’m still shopping for an agent and publisher for this “non genre” piece. Let me know if you have any leads. ;-)



Q: Before we let you go, what’s next for Peter Emshwiller? Is there a project on the horizon that has you excited?

A: Lately my life has mostly been about voiceover acting (doing silly voices for cartoons and video games and such under the name Stoney Emshwiller) and performing live improv comedy. (Hey, it beats working for a living, don’t it??)



Aside from that stuff (and the wacky, perhaps-unpublishable comedic novel I mentioned earlier), I’ve recently been toying with a couple of fresh ideas for science fiction books. Plus, a part of me STILL wants to write that third novel, since The Host and Short Blade were always intended as part of a trilogy. Maybe if the e-books of the first two do particularly well….



Stay tuned! And thanks!



Oh, and if anyone out there wants to Facebook friend me:



https://www.facebook.com/stoney.emshwiller



or check out my ancient website (Dang, I really gotta update that ol’ thing):



http://stoneyland.net/



or my overly-flattering Wikipedia page:



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Emshwiller



or my IMDB page:



http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0256681/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1



please feel free. Put together, they all make me look WAY more successful and cool than I actually am.



Thanks again for joining us, Peter!



It’s been a pleasure! Thanks for inviting me!

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Feature and Follow Friday

Feature & Follow Friday is a blog hop that is designed to provide some much-appreciated exposure to the bloggers participating, and to expand their following. Hosted by Parajunkee and Alison Can Read, each of whom feature a chosen blog for the week, it's an interesting way to get to know one another.

Question of the Week: Happy Mardi Gras! If they were throwing the HOTTEST books off of a Mardi Gras float -- what would you do to have them throw to you…?

The book I'd most like to see come flying off that float is Guy Gavriel Kay's River of Stars . . . and, if I was really lucky, a few copies of Stephen King's Doctor Sleep might come winging their way alongside it. Of course, since they're both likely to be thick, heavy hardcovers, I'd probably make a complete fool of myself and then hide behind the drunks who are already numb to the pain, and unlikely to have the coordination to make a catch!

Parajunkee also hosts a Social Hop for Facebook and Twitter, which I regularly take part in. So, if you're one of those people who aren't on Blogger, or who just don't like Google Friend Connect, it's a great way to keep in touch and follow one another.

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