A.J. Aalto Supervillain on a Leash
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Guest Interview- Alex Kimmell

August 22
AlexAlexAlexAlexHey! Today, I get to interview the very creepy and delightful Alex Kimmell, horror writer extraordinaire. Welcome, Alex!
1.    The Key To Everything scared the pants off me and kept me going, “whoa, wait, what the–?” I still can’t look at squirrels without my eyes widening. What inspired you to write it?
The original idea for the story came from a dream. It started as a short story that I put on my blog at the time. Some people at Booktrope read it and told me that if I extended the story into novel form, they wanted to publish it. Before that I never really considered myself an “author”. I wrote songs and lyrics for longer than I can remember. Obviously it’s very different from writing prose. As a first experience, I was extremely lucky. Now that I am put in the position of finding new publishing outlets, the business side of writing is revealing itself to be very challenging. Though, it’s not very different from the music business at all. The stories I hear from other authors are nearly identical to the tales we used to swap with other bands backstage and on the bus.
 
I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that the book scared you of all people! Referring to the squirrel element, I wanted to find an animal that most people don’t usually find frightening and is seen by most people commonly. At the time, the room I was writing in had a window looking over a short brick wall. I leaned back in my chair, looked out the window at the very moment a squirrel jumped off the wall toward the house. My heart jumped to my throat and I knew I had to use it somehow.
 
2.    Tell me about your background in music. How much research did you need to do in order to write the Idea of North and the piano prodigy convincingly?
a.    I grew up playing drums from the age of 9 or 10. I went to the Hamilton Academy of Music for my senior year in high school. From there I went on to get my Bachelor’s Degree in Music from the University of Southern California. I worked quite a bit in the industry up until about eight or nine years ago. That was when I turned my focus to writing fiction. I read a few books about composing for piano when I was in college. Most of my research came from my memories of that. I listen to a lot of solo piano music while I’m writing. If the music is too big in my ears, it takes all of my attention away from the words I want to get down. I tried to steer clear of making the music sections in the story too technical and specific. I wanted to keep the story flowing and not make too many people turn to Google or Wikipedia for terminology and definitions.
 
3.    Tell us a bit about your publishing journey before, during, and after Booktrope. Would you have any advice for writers considering a hybrid publisher or self-publishing as opposed to a small press or traditional large press?
Booktrope was my first foray into publishing. I wrote primarily as an outlet to remain creative after I wasn’t able to make music anymore. It turned out they liked some of the short stories I was putting on my blog and asked me to turn one into a novel. That eventually became “the Key to everything”. From there, I released two more books with them before they closed shop. Currently, I have re-released “the Key to everything” and “the idea of North” with an indie press called Shadow Work Publishing that focuses primarily on the horror genre. My short story collection “A Chorus of Wolves” is forthcoming through Overlords Publishing hopefully later this year.
I am researching agents right now and considering transitioning to a large press. I haven’t gone in that direction yet because I didn’t feel the need to look elsewhere with Booktrope essentially falling in my lap when they did. While I am working on my next large project, I’ve been thinking more and more about attempting to release it with a company that can cast a wider net. Hopefully into bookstores and get my work in front of people who are in positions to option the stories for film or television. I see no reason not to try every venue that can help further my career. I’m going to write no matter what because I enjoy it, so why not get more people exposed to what I do? I’m not trying to be hip or the flavor of the day. I want to write my stories and make as close to a successful living financially doing it as I can.
 
 
4.    Can you give us a hint as to what project(s) you’re currently working on? 
a.    Right now I am writing a handful of short stories for anthologies with small presses and great company of fellow writers. I am nearing the midpoint of a new book (I hope anyway). It’s still in first draft form, so I keep plugging away at it. I have a lot of ideas for the world in which it’s set and it just might end up being the beginning of a series of sorts. I’ve been considering making all of my stories from this point on take place in this world. They won’t necessarily have to be read in any specific order, but they’ll all be in familiar places. We’ll have to see where it goes.
 
3CoversWebsite5.    Many artists need a very specific setting in which to create. When you work, do you have any quirks or use any aids to get you in the zone?
a.    It’s tough as a stay at home Dad. When the minions are at school is when I get the majority of my work done. When they’re on vacations and summer break, I get as much accomplished as I can in a busy house full of teenagers. With my physical issues, sitting all day is a challenge. Then again, so is standing. A good friend of mine is an engineer/carpenter. He took on a huge project and made me an amazing, adjustable desk so I can transition from sitting to standing when I work. It helps so much. I also enjoy switching things up on myself. I primarily work on my computer, but typewriters push me in different directions. Using the typed pages as a first draft is good for me. When I transcribe it into the computer, I make changes and see things in the stories a bit differently. I don’t always have the option, but when I do, I like it.

 
6.    Do you find that your writing style changes at all with the conflicts or challenges that you’re juggling in your real life? That your day-to-day experiences colour your writing?
a.    Of course they do. Nobody lives or creates in a vacuum. On days when I’m experiencing physical pain, my writing is very different than on days when I feel “good”. If I’m sad or depressed, that’s reflected in the writing as well. It happens more than I realise too. I’ve had friends recognise things that I never intended to express outwardly. Of course, they were privy to what was going on in my real world at that time, so they could read between the lines more than someone who doesn’t know me might.
 
7.    What books, games, TV shows, or movies do you go nuts for? (Get it? Squirrels? Nuts? NEVERmind, sorry!) Does fandom sneak into your writing, and if so, how much?
a.    Hardy har har! I don’t think my geeky fandom comes through any deeper than the horror genre. Most of the books and movies I enjoy are scary. Though I love watching all the superhero/comic book stuff with my kids. Netflix binges are common in our house for sure. Whether that’s a good thing or not, who knows? All that being said, I love that I can wear my geek flags on my sleeves proudly now. When I was a kid, liking comics and reading horror meant I was a freak and left me prone to getting my ass kicked. Now that all my fellow beat down survivors have grown and taken over the entertainment industry. They’ve brought it to the mainstream and we don’t have to cower in the shadows anymore. Not that I ever did. I was raised by a creative family who taught me to be proud of my tastes and opinions and not follow the flock without question. Besides, I get to do nasty things in my books to all the kids who were mean to me. Revenge is indeed sweet!
 
8.    Do you shy away from writing open-door sex scenes if the plot calls for it? Is there subject matter that you will not write? If so, where is that line and how do you feel your way around it?
a.    I wouldn’t shy away from it. I just haven’t written a story that calls for a sweaty sex scene yet. Though, my books might sell more if they had some! It’s funny. There really aren’t many subjects I can think of that I won’t touch on. I don’t go for child abuse or violence solely for violence’s sake. Exploitation and gore as shock value tools aren’t things I’ve ever been interested in. There are entire book and film series’ that made a ton of money simply by grossing people out and making them jump in their seats. I prefer scares that last long after the last page is turned. I feel the best way to get around those tools by not using them in the first place. I don’t think that way, so I don’t write that way.
 
9.    Many of your reviews highlight the creepy, bizarre, “WTF horror” nature of your work. How do you aim to top that going forward? What plans do you have for your next book? No big spoilers, please! 
a.    I honestly hope that I can top it! I want to keep writing stories that interest me, that make me think “what if?” and “WTF?” I want to be as surprised as I hope the reader will be. I know many writers who outline their stories and know what’s coming long before they put pen to paper (or pixel to screen). I’ve been trying to do that and it doesn’t work for me right now. In many ways it might help prevent me from making mistakes with my stories and writing myself into corners I don’t know how to get out of. I’ve come to understand that I’m a “pantser”. As a musician I spent most of my life improvising, playing jazz, etc. I feel that the experience of doing that helps me quite a bit when I’m writing.
What frightens me personally is, not knowing the answers to all of the questions a given story might bring up. Sometimes the WTF is the most terrifying thing. Understanding everything is a comfort. Comfort is an opposite of fear. If everything is explained to you about why the antagonist does what he does or how it is all happening, you don’t have to be afraid of it anymore. Irrational fears run the deepest. As a species, we generally all have a fear of the dark. Not because something happened to us personally per se, but we instinctively know that not being able to see makes the environment around us more dangerous. Not knowing why the squirrels in “the Key to everything” are so demented or why the music and storms are connected in “the Idea of North” frightened me while I was writing. I left those concepts open ended intentionally so they would leave the hanging question of “Why?”
“The Key to everything” was released almost five years ago. I still get squirrel related things from people who’ve read the book all the time. I didn’t mean for the squirrels to be what people primarily took away from the book, but the idea seems to have resonated. Now if only someone would send me a Steinway Grand Piano…
 
10. How do you get inside your antagonist’s head without that taint rubbing off on you personally? Do you have any tricks when it comes to compartmentalising and keeping yourself separate from your baddies? 
a.    So far my antagonists have all been so “unhuman” that I haven’t had difficulty taking myself out of their headspace. Though I must say that creating the bad guys can be extremely fun. I might throw in some personality traits of people from the past that have “done me wrong”. Bullies from childhood, you know. What are they going to do to me now right? It might be childish, but it’s certainly enjoyable!

Follow Alex wherever he goes! No really, he likes it. 😉

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Taking It To The Grave 5: Worlds Collide

February 2

Tonight, an Evil Author Interview of a different sort … while I host Mark Everett Stone, author of “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Undead” and “What Happens in Vegas Dies in Vegas”, I don’t actually interview him. Actually, I don’t interview anyone. My main character, ex-forensic psychic and pro-derfwad Marnie Baranuik, interviews his main character, seriously badass monster hunter Kalevi Hakala, from Kal’s point of view. Buckle up!

I watched the pretty little bit of a thing burst through my office door under a full head of steam. She should be splattered all over the front lobby thanks to a couple of silver deer slugs wielded by our more than capable Receptionist, but she was in my grille instead, mouth running faster than Jesse Owens.

“Whoa right there, short stack,” I growled, hand on my Lahti 9mm, ready to draw. “You made it past Sandy, who should have stopped you with extreme prejudice, which means you know what we do here.” My Interdiction spell kept me from being specific.

The blonde said, “I told her I was here to knock some sense into you, and she said it was about time someone did. And don’t call me short stack, cockwaffle.”

“Knock some sense into me? It’s been tried and the only way I get sensible is if I get sensibly dead. You say you have questions, fine. Spit them out, then we can talk about jail time. Spill, I have a Fatburger with my name on it waiting for me.” My stomach growled, eyeing my liver for lunch.

“My name’s Marnie Baranuik. My author said YOUR author suggested that YOU and ME work a case together, but  YOU and my Harry can’t be around one another, and I’m here to make sure–”

“Whoa, Tex, I understand your confusion. Our authors couldn’t untie their shoes without us. Makes us valuable, but I don’t know any Harry, or hairy, or hare-y. I just work here. Now, if this Harry is a ‘who’ instead of a ‘what’, then if he keeps his nose clean, I won’t have to turn him into sushi.” There I go with the food metaphors again. I really was hungry.

“Sushi!” The little blonde’s nose wrinkled. “He’s not bloody Cthulhu. So, I don’t have to, like, kick your ass or anything?”

How can I ignore such a straight line? “Well, I have some other suggestions regarding my ass….”

Her response was a quicksilver smirk. “Don’t give me any ideas, hot shot. Here.” She gave me a box of Lucky Charms. “I brought this in case I had to bribe you.”

I took the leprechaun-decorated box reverently, flashing the tasty tidbit standing there looking all shamefaced one of my patented 1000 watt smiles. There are few things in life that can give such pleasure and a tasty cereal is one of them. Marnie sat oppposite, propping her red Keds up on my desk, and said,

Marnie: Can I ask you about your author, Mark Stone? Is he like, mentally unstable like my author is?

Kal: Mentally unstable? Kid, the man is three kinds of crazy and four kinds of fool for not getting professional help!

Marnie: How often does Stone write you into a scene and then *whoopah!* erases the whole thing and acts like it never happened? Do you get a lot of rewrites?
Kal: Nah, he’ll stare at the computer for hours while I sit in limbo bored outta my tree waiting for him to be all creative and inspired. Actually, I think it ‘s the caffeine that really gets his juices flowing. In the form of several cups of coffee. I mean, really…the dude must have an intestinal tract made out of asbestos. As for re-writes, about three per book is all he can stand to second guess himself.
 
Marnie: Is this him? *turns a picture on Kal’s desk* I can’t keep AJ’s picture on my desk; she’s all about the meta, sure, but she’s fuckin’ shy–hey, holy shit, your author is HOT! I mean, omg, jeez … sorry, but … wow. He’s so … *gulp* Sorry. Uh, questions. Right. Think, Marnie, think!

I raised an eyebrow, almost touching my hairline. If she thought he was handsome, then maybe it was time for me to put on the charm.

Marnie: When Stone has you out there kicking major monster ass and performing feats of insanity, does he consider your safety AT ALL? How many special skills did he give you preemptively to make sure you can get the job done without getting your ass handed to you?

Kal: He gave me SEAL training, that’s about it besides the rage that dominates my life, my ace-in-the-hole. If I wanted safe, I’d be in an Iron Man outfit. Although, come to think of it, the little turkey manages to have my ass kicked from here to the moon on a regular basis.

Marnie: How often does Stone have to go back and seed the early chapters with new skills to make sure that later in the book when some baddy pops up, you’re ready for it?
New skills? What did she think I was, a Transformer?
 
Kal: I have all the skills he had given me in the beginning, nothing new really.
Marnie: Does he reward you with sex scenes? Cuz, I’m telling you, I ain’t gettin’ nearly enough rewards: espresso, sure, but she took away my cookies, she makes me live with a cold snotty dead guy, the hot dude I wanna screw won’t do me…it’s almost like AJ hates me. Does your author do nice things for you? If so, how can I get him to write my scenes?
If she only knew…well, hell, misery loves company.
Kal: He implies sex, but you’ll never see sex. Don’t get me wrong, I get plenty of action, thank God, but it’s not between the covers of the book. And boy, doesn’t that suck the big one. But at least he doesn’t give me all sorts of relationship angst where I constantly worry about ‘Does she love me? What’s going to happen next?’ Bleh!
 
Marnie: Do you ever get exhausted that Stone throws so many complications your way, or are you as badass as you seem? Frankly, I’m exhausted just being in the same room with you.
 
Kal: It’s my job to field the crapstorm my author slings my way. Period. End o’ story. But to be honest, I need a vacation. That and some vodka and hot and cold running redheads.
Marnie: Do you ever go off-script and surprise your author, totally blindside him with something?

I laughed long and loud. Screwing with Stone was what I lived for. After all, even fiction needs some entertainment.

Kal: All the time. The fun part is watching him twitch and sweat through the logic traps. Sometimes I just lay back with some hot buttered popcorn and make a night of watching him sweat.

Marnie: He’s got you chasing shit all over the place. First Denver, then Vegas–which took you to some ODD places … well, you tell it better than I do. Where has he sent you, and where is he sending you next?
Kal: Well, as you can tell by the titles, every adventure is city based. First Denver, then Vegas by way of another world, London and Nazi-occupied France. Next is San Francisco, after that Chicago, then Omaha. Yeah, I said Omaha…thrillsville.
Marnie: Picture this: mild-mannered and slightly quirky writer sitting innocently at his desk, pounding out his daily words, and then … If YOU could be the author for a day, and write some shit to stick into Mark Stone’s life for YOUR amusement and entertainment, what would you do to the poor guy?
Good question and I had the perfect answer.
 
Kal: I’d type him rich, that way he wouldn’t be so quick to pound out these action-adventure pieces putting me in the path of far too many bullets! Rich means he’ll get lazy and maybe retire me. Then I could finally relax…” Ah, perchance to dream!
(Editor’s note: AJ Aalto–SO not pictured on the left, honest–is sick in bed with the chickenpox, so her main character, Marnie Baranuik, stepped up to the plate. You can connect with Stone on Twitter @M3verettStone or check out his website. “Things to Do In Denver When You’re Undead”, the first book in his popular dark urban fantasy series (From the Files of the BSI), can be found here.)

Taking It To The Grave 4: Old Gods, New Blood

January 3

Winter–that coy bitch–has finally pinned the city down with a merciless cold front; drooping above the barn is an ash grey sky studded by lonely pockets of stars. Your host’s fingers are clutched tightly to the old coffee can, and the thing inside it is making pitiful claws-on-tin noises: scritch-scritch-scritch. They’re hard to ignore, but she has hardened herself off so that she may face the task ahead. Wind snatches the collar of her coat and drags the fabric away from the delicate flesh of her throat, and she’s thankful that she’s brought a flask of Fireball whiskey.

Inside the barn, under a dry shaft of light, the circle is still waiting, fairly humming, creating an expectant buzz low in her belly. Stepping without hesitation to the workbench, she works quickly against her stiffening joints to lay out her supplies: candles the colour of blood orange marmalade, the flask, the tin can, the butcher knife.

A smell brings her hand to a hovering pause mid-air … it’s familiar, sweet … root beer? Craning to inspect the darkest recesses of the barn from her safe roost by the bench, she lets her fingertips fall on the knife. The cold length of it emboldens her. She hasn’t begun the ritual–hasn’t even put match to wick, yet–but the fact remains: she is not alone. The shadows breathe, stare, and wait. They don’t have to wait long.

She cocks her hip in blatant invitation at the corner. “An Infernal who does not wait to be summoned is pertinacious company, indeed. I am most eager to meet you. Won’t you come out and play?”

The shadow retreats like liquid mercury streaking down a drain, but the tilt of what might have been its chin shows interest.

“Show yourself, Old One. You will be welcomed with praise and offerings.”

Jesse James Freeman steps out from behind the riding lawn mower with a can of Barq’s in his hand, and his eyebrows pinched with bewilderment. “What’s that smell, AJ? Cinnamon and whiskey?”

AJ’s shoulders let down and she glares. “Dude, what the hairy fuck? I told you to wait upstairs. Some of us have shit to do. I’ll interview you later.”

“I got bored and thirsty.”

“Gawd, you’re impatient.” Her lips tighten into a thin line. “Fine. It’s fine. We can do this on your schedule, Hasty McItchypants. Here, come sit in the middle of this circle, here, and hold this.”

She plunks the tin can, with its scritching contents, into his midrif, and he cups it with one arm. His nose crinkles. “What’s in here?”

“Not for you to worry about. Have a seat. Now … my notes are upstairs, but we can improvise. Sit.”

Jesse steps into the circle tentatively, his brow darkening. “What are you tryin’ to pull, here?”

“If I were trying to pull something, you’d feel it, sweetheart,” she promised.

AJ: I’ve only known you since I joined Twitter in April 2011. How long have you been pretending to be a writer?
Jesse: I had a Twitter account for probably two years before I actually started using it for anything beyond a newsfeed.  I really didn’t understand Twitter or how one is supposed to use it.  I was a Myspace kid going a ways back – and I met a lot of creative folks on there who became actual real-life friends.  My friend Robert kept bugging me about Twitter – he said, “That’s where all the deals are being made.”  I guess I kinda started using the “@” and bugging people who were writers and kept being directed to this place called #PubWrite – I really think that people kept sending me that direction so I’d leave them alone.  What I discovered was there was this vast independent publishing phenomenon going on that I knew nothing about – at the time I didn’t have a Kindle and to be really honest wasn’t even reading that much.  I guess I’ve always gravitated towards people “doing their own thing” and I get caught up in groups and movements pretty easily cause I’m a Libra.
I joined the Twitter zeitgeist about the same time that you became active on there I guess.
As for pretending to be a writer, I’ve been lying to people and saying I was that for years.  The only sport I was any good at was throwing darts – and that required about three pints of Guinness before I got warmed up.  I wanted to be a comic book artist but I can’t draw.  Being a jazz musician was out because I’d have had to learn to play an instrument.  Writing was kind of all I had left – and I type really fast.
AJ: Is Billy Purgatory the first project you’ve worked on, and if not, what did you write before this?
Jesse: When I got out of college I bartended in Dallas for a few years and tried to break into the independent film scene that everyone was promising was going to show up at the time.  I never had much luck getting on a crew, so I decided to make my life even more difficult by loading everything I could fit into the bed of a truck and drove out to Los Angeles.  I had it in my head that I wanted to direct movies – you can guess how well that went as nobody has ever heard of anything I ever worked on.  My buddy Patrick Noblitt and I worked on some projects together and then I decided with his coaching that I was a screenwriter.  We had some stuff we wrote “go around town” but ultimately never made that big sale (thanks Pluto Nash).  What I did learn from all that is that what I was going to tell people I was from now on was a writer.
I actually got the idea for Billy Purgatory ten years or so ago when I was in L.A.  I was looking for a simple idea – because whatever I work on tends to mushroom cloud into stuff that’s way more complicated than it needs to be and I become overwhelmed in the fall-out.  I was like, “This is perfect.  Kid has a skateboard and fights a different mythological creature every week.”  No back-story, no complicated plot devices, no emotional what-have-you’s motivating the character.
A good friend of mine, Moses Jaen, who is an amazing artist and an even more amazing sculptor, and I put Billy together as a comic book several years back.  A lot of the ideas that ended up in the novel came from Moses and I brainstorming and I will always love that guy for believing in the project when not so many people did.
And now – Billy Purgatory and the “Billyverse” has, of course, grown into the most complicated and convuluted thing I’ve ever put on paper.  So yeah, given a long enough timeline I can royally fuck any easy idea right up.
AJ:  For those who haven’t read it yet, can you describe Billy Purgatory for us?
Jesse: *shakes the can* Is there a fuckin’ bird in here?
AJ: Hush, you. Answer the question.
Jesse: Billy Purgatory starts out in the book as a ten year old kid who is focused on skateboarding – it’s his entire world.  He’s being raised by his father, Ulysses, who is a black-ops Vietnam veteran with a wooden leg and a gruff disposition in regards to everything but his love for his son.  Their little family is all they know in the beginning – their entire world.  Billy’s mother is a complete mystery to him, she’s never been around and as far as Billy knows she’s either dead or left right after he was born.  His Pop isn’t really helpful on filling in the blanks and refuses to talk about any of it.
Billy’s life changes when he starts having dreams about a giant rooster who lives in his backyard, the Devil Bird.  Clues to what happened to Mom and the appearance of vampires and a monster Billy names The Time Zombie start the action trucking right along after Billy rescues a mysterious girl named Anastasia from peril.
The second half of the book lets the reader in on the answers to the mysteries of Billy’s life, what happened to his mother, and the relationship between Billy and Anastasia as grown-ups.  It also tells of an overlying paranormal mystery that plays out in ancient Greece, Vietnam, on the high-seas and to the mysterious island of The Satanic Five.
It’s an adventure story at its core – with elements of horror, the supernatural, UFOlogy and black comedy mixed in.
AJ: Does anything in Billy Purgatory come from real-life experiences, whether it be characters, or scenes?
Jesse: I think if anyone says that real-life experiences don’t factor into their writing I think they’re not being completely honest with themselves.  Your characters are either the things you like about yourself, or the things you don’t, probably a lot has to do with the things you want to be.
Billy has a sort of unlucky relationship with the ladies, so that completely doesn’t come from my own personal history.  There are a lot of really creepy places in the story that I pulled from childhood experiences.  The old sawmill where people supposedly drank and did occult weirdness is a real place.  The Witch House is a real place, or at least in my memory it is, in the woods behind the elementary school.
I’ve always had a really great relationship with my parents, they always supported me even when my plans were obviously bizarre and out on left field Pluto somewhere.  Billy looking for his mother was easy to write because I just imagined how I would feel if my own mother hadn’t been around for me.  The relationship between Billy and his “Pop” is definitely in honor of my own father.
The first person that ever read the book in its entirety was author Tess Hardwick.  The first thing she asked me when she finished reading it was, “So who was this girl and what did she do to you in real life for you to create the character of Anastasia (who turns out to *spoiler* be the vampire girlfriend, and not one of the sparkly-nice ones either)?”  I continue to plead the fifth.
AJ: Does fear make you horny? Of course it does, don’t be silly. Why do you think that might be?
Jesse: Yes, extremely – you know me so well.  I think that fear is a powerful emotion and our minds gravitate towards this power and switches get flipped.  Danger, fear, aggression and sweet sweet love are all labels for stuff that comes out of the same jar.  Open the lid and jam.
AJ: *chuckles* I would not recommend you open that lid just yet. *lights the candles one by one and places them carefully around the circle* When you’re not busy licking paint chips, which authors do you usually read? Do you have a preferred genre?
Jesse: Well, we might as well plug your book, Touched (The Marnie Baranuik Files), because I’m reading it right now – and it’s fantastic by the way.
AJ: Gosh, thanks, I uh .. that almost makes me want to reconsider this, uh, whole … um, nevermind, too late now. You were saying?
Jesse: I’m also reading a book by Marni Mann called Memoirs Aren’t Fairytales: A Story of Addiction – which is beyond intense.  Most everything I read lately is tied to our Twitter writing community #PubWrite.  There are a lot of amazing storytellers who I have been lucky enough to become great friends with.
As for genre, I’m definitely a genre-guy and a geek.  I’ve walked the floors at Comic-Con and stared in awe.  I love Lovecraft, Neil Gaiman, Alan Moore, Warren Ellis, Michael Chabon, Joseph Campbell, and definitely Kurt Vonnegut.
AJ: Any odd writing quirks? Have you ever attempted to write sober? *smirk*
Jesse: Here’s the thing about my writing – I note obsessively.  I have stacks of journals full of ideas for stuff that I’m writing on, one page treatments that I have no idea what to do with, old movie scripts that will probably never see the silver screen.  I notecard everything – I’m into flowcharts and lists and plot breakdowns.  I’m kind of a world builder, and I probably build these worlds up far beyond what would be necessary to tell whatever story I’m working on.
I know people are going to shudder at this revelation – but I normally don’t write every day.  It’s just not how I work.  I might go three days just writing plot notes, or sketching, or letting it all tumble around in my head before I ever hit the keys.  When I do hit the keys though, I hit them hard and I attempt to murder the living plastic-hell out of them.
I absolutely hate editing, because I’m obsessive about it and don’t know when to quit.  Billy Purgatory went through eight drafts as a novel, and that doesn’t count all the Billy stuff that I had written previously to that.  I also, apparently, don’t know where commas should go.  God bless my editor, Katie Flanagan.
I am proud to announce, in closing, that I have never written a word sober (especially not this interview).
AJ: *eyeballs the root beer can* Good, that’ll make things easier. Say, what colour thong are you wearing right this second? Be honest!
Jesse: Are little hearts and lace bows a color?
AJ: Oh, you wonderfully kinky bastard. I heard rumours of a video blog upcoming … what can viewers expect to see, if not you huffing gas fumes in full pirate regalia?
Jesse: The details of our upcoming video blog are still in the top secret stages and to give out many details at this stage would put you and the rest of the world in danger.  That being said, I can tell you that it will chronicle the adventures of a crack team that I am putting together to investigate the paranormal.  This team realizes that they will be putting their very lives on the line in the quest for truth and will be uncovering mysteries that the power brokers of the world are trying to suppress.  To my credit, I will selfishly be undertaking this fearsome quest with no regard for my safety – and I will be doing all this while drinking Wild Turkey.
AJ: If you could collaborate with one writer, living or dead, who would it be? (pick me! pick me! WHAT?? Oh, fine)
Jesse: I think that Carl Jung and I could write a badass story together.  He could handle all the mystical-science-collective unconciousness bullshit, and I could pepper in a healthy dose of explosions and hot babes.
AJ: Will your next book be another Billy Purgatory adventure in weirdness, or are you trying something else next?
Jesse: The sequel to Billy Purgatory is already being written, Billy Purgatory and the Curse of the Satanic Five.  I’ve actually gotten a lot of it done, but it’s still kind of spread out in piles all over my office floor and my dog, PopPop, keeps stealing the pages and running around the house with them until I give him Honey Nut Cheerios.
AJ: To be fair to PopPop, that’s how I usually obtain Honey Nut Cheerios, too.
Jesse: I’m working on another book called MythCop.  It’s about angels, samurai swords, super-colliders, althernate-universes, hard drinking, lighthouses, the cavalry, grey aliens with shovels, and cops. I have another idea I’ve been playing with for a long time that’s almost become a comic book a couple times, but I’m thinking of just writing the novel – it’s called R. Cane and it’s about a Victorian adventurer-ruffian type who teams up with his chiropractor and a buddhist monk and goes on adventures.

AJ: Ideas, ideas, hey I have an idea. Open that lid, and stick your hand in, wouldja? Wait … mister, not twenty minutes ago, you said almost the same thing to me about your pants, and I played along, didn’t I? Jesse? I just need two more minutes of your time! Hey wait, ha! You said that too! WAIT! JESSE?? Come back here!

(editor’s note: AJ Aalto would like to thank her indulgent guest, Jesse James Freeman, author of Billy Purgatory: I Am The Devil Bird for allowing my insanity to continue, rampant and unchecked. Jesse, you are a gentleman, a scholar, and a world class nut. Thanks for being you, big guy *major smooch*)

 

 

Taking It To The Grave 3 (By Guest Blogger Heather Goldie)

June 17
 4am isn’t the nicest time of day;  Its cool and dark, and there’s an underlying air of menace. The only people out at this hour are shift workers, crooks and hookers. And me, your lovely hostess, Heather.
 I’m sitting in the back of AJ’s car waiting patiently.  She slides behind the wheel humming to herself and starts the car.  I let her adjust the volume on her radio until she’s blasting Avril. That’s when I lunge forward to put the cloth over her nose and mouth.  I know, I know, chloroform is such a wimpy move, but you should know: AJ’s feisty and she fuckin’ bites.
She was expecting it–so paranoid, jeez–but she was not expecting it from me.Her wide eyes in the rear view mirror show confusion, followed hard and fast by rage. I’m going to pay for this later, but until then, I’m going to have my fun. I shove her limp form into the passengers seat, climb into the front and off we go, listening to her music. *lalala-lala-la-lala What the hell.* I love Avril, too, AJ.
 
It’s a 40 minute drive, but she’s quiet as a corpse the whole way there. Tricky getting her down the stairs. Hope her last tumble doesn’t leave too many bruises. Now AJ’s eyes start to flutter.  The room is dim, lit only by one small desk lamp.  There’s a table and two chairs.  AJ is handcuffed to one, I sit in the other.  The room has an odd smell to it, but not bad for your average basement; could be a lot worse.
 
H: Hey, you’re waking up , eh sleepy head? Sorry ’bout that, but I knew you wouldn’t come here willingly.  Like the place?  I rented it just for you.
AJ: Fffffff-uck.
H:  There’ll be none of that, sweety. See, here’s the thing.  I’ve watched you put your author friends in the “hot seat” lately but noticed you don’t reveal a lot about yourself.  Today, that’s what you and I are going to do.
AJ: Fuck. You.
H: I guess you noticed I changed your clothes for you? Polka dots are so you!  Nice granny panties, by the way.  Seriously?  Kitten-print?
AJ: It’s laundry day, get off my case.
H: So what do you think of your clown costume? Hee hee, you look adorable in that ruffled collar.  *holds up mirror.* We’re going to play a game. K?
AJ: This isn’t anything like “Hide the Lead Pipe” is it? I don’t  like that game.
H: What the–No! It’s called “Send in the Clowns”, ya weirdo. Behind me on the table is the contents of your purse and your glove box.  You have some strange things in there, woman.  Like the ball gag. Might need that, if you start sassin’ me. Why was it in there?  And why does a married woman need a strip of condoms?  Extra large, ribbed for her pleasure?
AJ: Emergency stash. I plan on “bumping into” Jude Law someday.
H: *laughs* Suuuuuure. Now would be a good time to explain the rules.  Whenever you’re a mouthy twat, I’m going to add a little more clown make up and hold up the mirror. How’s that sound?
AJ: Or, you could bite me. That’s an alternative.
H: How rude! *hovers with white pancake make up* Lets start with your eyes.  There that’s pretty.  Now lets play … Whats the most terrifying thing to ever happen to you?
  
 AJ: One of my first boyfriends asked if he could chase me through the woods. I didn’t see the harm; I grew up beside that strip of forest, knew every pathway like the back of my hand. Didn’t occur to me that it might be dangerous in the dark, or that going off the paths would be stupid. I tore through those trees like my life depended on it, left him so far behind that I was feelin’ pretty smug. I found an underused path and pelted through the over-arching branches with my arms up in front of my face–and plowed smack into a stranger. He was more shocked than I was, some skinny 17 yr old girl practically tackling him in the dark. And the thought flashed through my mind–this guy could do anything to me right now and no one would know. I’d be fucking cold by the time some cadaver dog laid down beside my corpse. Luckily, he was just some drunk cutting through the woods. But my heart sure hammered wildly the whole time he stood there, and I’ve never forgotten that helpless feeling. I LOVED it. I get off on being scared. To this day, I have a real deep-seated desire to be chased through the woods again.
 
H: That’s better, good girl.  Have you ever killed a living thing for fun?
 
AJ: For fun? No. Not even as a kid. I grew up in a house where my mum would name spiders she found in the house, or capture them in her hands and put them outside. I’ve laid in a field of dandelions surrounded by bumblebees. Oh wait … I retract that “no”. I do yell triumphantly when I smack a mosquito on my arm and leave a little bloody smear. That would qualify as killing for fun … I love crushing those fuckers.
 
H: Nice.  Bloodsuckers.  That leads me to this one.  Tell me about the Harry Dreppenstedt character in “Touched“. Why did you make him a “revenant”? Why not some other supernatural creature? Where did the inspiration for Harry come from?
 
AJ: I decided to use the old word “revenant” because the glut of paranormal romancy-vamps (while certainly having their appeal) did not match up with the creature I was trying to create in Harry. The word vampire has come to mean something that I did not associate with the immortals in my book. Harry is technically a vampire, in the most classic sense of the word. I’m talking classic as in “monster”, no doubt there. He is not the beautiful, perfect prom date. He is cold, and undead, and has all the traditional vulnerabilities: sunlight will turn him to ash, holy water will melt him, he loses power when near running water, beheading will kill him, as will a stake of rowan wood in his unbeating heart. I added a couple of things: my revenants carry “crypt plague” and break out in hives near priests and crosses. He must rest during daylight hours in a safe dark location, preferably his casket. He is 400 yrs dead, has old world charm and devotion in spades, but is emotionally unavailable & entirely incapable of love–as all dead guys should be, imo. He survives only on the blood of human beings–animals won’t cut it. He cares for Marnie as his primary caregiver,  to whom he gives a partial gift of his Talent, his specific psychic abilities. This is where Marnie gets her power. He is not a romantic partner–nor is he a sex partner in the beginning, because to offer Marnie that sort of intimacy would be giving her access to his complete range of powers, and she’s a total wackjob as it is. A wackjob with extra power? Harry’s concern is that she’d use it badly, as did all of his prior DaySitters. That being said, with all his faults, he is a marvellous check and balance for Marnie: he attempts to keep her grounded.
 
H: I love Harry.  He’s sweet.  Why has it taken you so long to finish a novel? Why this one? You’ve started so many over the years, what’s different about this one?
 
AJ: I’ve been writing since I was 13 years old, after my dad got me to read David Eddings’ Belgariad series. I loved it, but kept picturing scenes that I wished had happened. I started re-writing, inserting my own ideas, taking Eddings’ characters on my flights of fancy. When I showed my dad, he said that wasn’t allowed. I tried again; 4000 pages and ten years later it was still blatant plagerism. I took a break, and came back to it some years later, but it felt like I’d never get it right. Touched” started as a vacation from the fantasy. I’d had this spazzy psychic detective character in my head forever … she amused me because even though she was psychic, she could never solve a fucking thing, and even though she lived with this hot vampire, she could never get laid, and the one guy who might screw her couldn’t, because they worked together. She was just a failure in almost every way … and I loved her anyway. I rooted for her, wanted her to pull up her big girl panties and get something done. She cracked me up. And once she got rolling, she tripped headlong into success– not the hero way, but eventually bumbling to victory like Mr. Magoo … if Mr. Magoo had ever been bamboozled by witches, whomped by ghouls and pounded by an old lady. I wrote a bit and shot it off to my friend and editor Berenice, who told me to take a break from the fantasy and play around with this mystery. That was all the permission I needed. I showed some to you (my beta reader, Heather *flutters eyelashes*), and you laughed; best sound ever, laughter coming from something I had written. You told me where it dragged, pointed out where it was stupid, but kept me trying again with those laughs. I wrote quickly just to hear that laughter, it became like a drug. 6 months later I was done the first draft.
 
H: What is with your obsession with pickle forks?
 
AJ: I’m blind. Let me explain that: I’ve had poor eyesight since 9th grade. It’s been getting steadily worse, and over the past few years I’ve needed a lot of help. This is why I say I “stalk my eye doctor”. I feel like I’m hanging out in his series of little dark private chambers because I have the hots for him or something. And I totally do–but only because he’s a man, and I’m a horny bitch with the moral aptitude of a crocodile. My point is: I’m terrified that I’ll lose my vision completely, and the idea of eye surgery, to me, is on the same horror scale as having someone jab metal instruments in there for fun and torture! My mum has these tiny plastic-handled forks for olives and cocktail onions and beets … it was a simple leap for me to notice them one day and go, “hey, it would be ASSNASTY if someone used that to dig around in my eyeball”. Normal people do think of shit like that, right?
 
H: Where do you get your insane ideas?
 
AJ: Often they pop in my head while I’m soaping up. I just shared too much, right? No, the soap part is a joke. Mostly. In the shower is where I get most of my great “omgwhatifthathappened?”moments. That’s the reason you’ll hear me snort-giggling in the shower by myself. The ONLY reason. Also: I love my sister but she is a fucking nutbar. When she and I get together for tea, I end up with enough dialogue to do me for two chapters. 
 
H: Ya too much information there, I think. Do you children fear you?
 
AJ: It would be far more accurate to say they roll their eyes and one-up me at this point. I did make sure when they were little that I had respect and obedience: I can’t stand kids who boss around their parents. I see it a lot, it’s totally unacceptable, and there was no way in hell that was going to happen in my house. They know I’m the boss, but they also know I’d never hurt them … and I’d slaughter to protect them. That being said, I don’t think anyone could shock my kids. Their mother’s attitude has prepared them for all manner of weirdness. I’m kinda proud of that. They’re tough little nuts.
 
H: Nice pretty blue eyebrows I think…
AJ: No! No! I answered your Q! No fair!
H: … we want you to look extra happy.  Sit still! When was the last time you stabbed someone?  
  
AJ:  I think a normal person would ask, “wtf kind of Q is that?” That’s what I should probably say. I stabbed myself a few months back. Or, technically, my husband stabbed me. I was hastily emptying the dishwasher, reaching for the clean cutlery, no hesitation, just grabbing … and a steak knife had been put in blade-up. BLADE-UP!!It sank about 2-3 cm into the meat of my palm. All I felt was cold. When I lifted my hand, the knife came WITH IT. I stared at it, totally stunned, while blood started to river down the handle, thinking, “Hunh. So that’s what it feels like. That fucking hurts. OMG those poor people who get stabbed to death. That IS a bad way to go.” And then, delayed reaction: “Uh, I should take this knife outta my hand, maybe?” 
 
H: Do you have any little writing secrets or tips? Something you’re willing to share?
 
AJ:  Write every day. Every. Single. Day. A habit–good or bad–can be formed or lost in as little as two weeks. You may not feel like writing every day, but maintaining the habit of sitting down with the intention of writing is even more important than your daily output. I think writing every day (even if you can only spare 15 minutes) is the most important tip you could possibly incorporate into your routine. Also: if you sit down every day to write, you will take writing more seriously, like a job, a business, a career. And it is. You have to show up for your dream job. Also: don’t wait for your muse to come–TELL your muse when you expect him to show up, and start work with or without him. Picasso said “inspiration exists, but it has to find us working.” I heartily concur. 
 
H: I’ll try that…thanks.  Lets go a little more personal: I hear you burn a lot of bacon…are you REALLY that bad a cook?
 
AJ: *hangs head*  “Burning bacon” is an inside joke term a certain friend and I *cough* made one day because (am I really telling this to the web? bloody hell) I was frying bacon early one afternoon so I could make nice chicken caesar salads for supper. It was taking forever, so I thought I’d pop down to my room to, y’know, erm, “pass the time pleasantly”? (the life of a full time writer–I know, rough, right?) It took longer than I’d counted on and when I came upstairs, I thought, “what’s burning?”. I’d TOTALLY forgotten about the bacon. Later, when hubby asked why there was no bacon for the salad, I just about choked on my tongue I was laughing so hard. Aaaand I’m sure my folks are really enjoying this little insight into their daughter’s hopeless hedonism. First person to buy me a package of bacon as a joke is gonna lose some teeth.
 
H:  OMG!  I might pee myself… Hey, Mom and Dad A.!  Sorry ’bout this.  How do you think they’ll like this one?  Weirdest place you’ve ever had sex? 
 
AJ: It would be irresponsible of me to say. *prim smile* Wow, lookit that … I don’t always kiss and tell! Who knew?
 
H: K, I’m gonna let that one slide…What’s your naughtiest sex fantasy?
 
AJ: Oh come on!!!  I’m so not telling. Do your worst. I will say this much: I haven’t done it yet. Not sure I’ll ever get the chance. Isn’t that kinda sad? It sure makes me sad.
 
H: Well, that was disappointing.  How about we add that nice bright red smile now?  Now that’s HOT!!  *pulls out camera phone for evidence later* Lets try this…Right now you are my submissive, what do you usually prefer? Dominant or submissive?  
AJ: I hate you.
 
H: No you don’t, you wuv me! Come on, kink, spill it!
 
AJ: I really need new friends … Gimme that clown nose. Next Q! LOL.
 
 H:  What is your favorite obsession?
 
AJ:  I become obsessed with a topic/song/food/subject easily, and just MOW through information or experiences with it for days, weeks, months. Right now, because my second novel has zombies in it, I’m obsessed with death, bacteria, plague and the process of putrefaction, and Haitian vodou. 
 
H: Well, your make up is all done, so I guess we’re almost done hereDeep-seated fear of clowns…when did it begin? What happened?
 
AJ: I think it started when I was about 2 or 3, too young to be out late on Hallowe’en. I was helping mum hand out candy at our place on Bogart St. It was after 9ish, and mum turned out theporch light and said: “It’s too late, now. Close the door.” I went to do so, and teenagers dressed like clowns rushed to the glass door and pounded on it, laughing. For a little sleepy girl past her bedtime, expecting no more kids, certainly not (countlessloomingshovingcacklingpounding)clowns on my porch in the dark, it was a terrible shock. Pretty sure I cried. When I got older, it occured to me that the painted-on smiles aren’t right: they’re smiling even when the man underneath is not. That’s fucking repulsive in every way. It makes my innards shake.
 
H: Thanks babe.  *adds the fluffy red clown hair and pointed hat to her head.* I’ll tell you how to get out of your cuffs.  That’s the easy part.  What I haven’t told you is this *flips the light switch on*
 
AJ: Are those … what the … Heather? What is this?
 
The entire room is covered in pictures of clowns.  Little clowns, tall clowns, fat clowns, skinny clowns.  Smiling and crying…they’re everywhere.
 
H: The only way out of here is down this hallway.  The best part is: the hallway is completely mirrored.  You’ll have to see what YOU look like as a clown.  Isn’t that great??  I’ve turned you into the thing you hate most. 
 
AJ: Don’t you dare leave me here like this!
 
H: Ok, so I guess I’ll see you Thursday?
 
AJ: Bitch, no! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
 
H: Bagel and French vanilla would be awesome.  Love you! *backs up the hall carefully* Cuff keys are in your back pocket!  Bye AJ! *runs from the room*
 
(Editor’s note: AJ would like to thank her guest blogger, Heather Goldie, for turning the tables on her and putting her in the hot seat, and also: for being the most ridiculous person ever. Love ya, girl. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s time to burn some bacon …)