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Author Interview: Sally Stephenson
While I try to recover from the alcoholic fever dream that is Worldcon, Sally Stephenson, author of Wildflowers, has agreed to come on the blog and subject herself to an interview.
Her new book is available as we speak on Kindle, so you should head on over and get it now before the word gets out and you’re left out of the cool kids party.
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- When did you start calling yourself a writer?
I still actually don’t call myself a writer, I think I’m still in the phase where I’m transistioning from writing being a hobby to an actual job, but now that I’m treating it like a job I guess it’s what I am.
It’s a strange transition process, one that I liken to the US Football selection process. You start off in high school, then if you’re good enough get a scholarship to a University team and then if you’re really good hopefully get drafted into the NFL. In writing terms being drafted for the NFL is going pro, traditionally and (for me) writing a bestseller)
- What led you to write historical fiction specifically?
The nature of the story, I had previously been writing fantasy but had struggled to fully form my ideas. I like literary novels especially and wanted to write something for the literary genre. When I got this idea, it simply fitted into historical fiction rather than me choosing to write for it specifically.
- Pantser or Outliner?
Pantser, I try and outline, forget and make it up along the way – works the best in my experience, minus the whole load of editing that comes after!
- What’s the worst piece of writing advice you’ve ever
“All you need is for Oprah to read your book”….really? I’ll just give her a quick call then! 
- Good stories come from all places. What influences your writing outside of other fiction?
I find people I know inspire me, with Edith and Helena, I realise in hindsight they’re actually like two good friends of mine who are together and have a good relationship. I’m also inspired by things I might see around me and try and think of it in a literary way and that could spawn something.
Other times a random piece of prose will pop into my head and be perfect for a story. It comes from all over the place which is one of the great things about being a writer.
- If you could pick one fictional character to do your day job for a single day, who would you choose?
Gabrielle, from Xena. I first saw the show when I was around 9 and she was writing her scrolls – as a child it showed me that even grown ups write and can work as a travelling bard – I think actually that would be my ideal job!!
What in the World is Widhalm Writing?
Ahh, alliteration. My college professor would be so proud.
The sharp-eyed reader might have noticed over the past month that I’ve trimmed by blog posts from twice a week to a lonely, drunken one. A third of that’s intended, another third is laziness, and the last and final third is because my cup runneth over with writing obligations.
This is a good problem to have. A fine problem. But still a problem, because it limits the amount of time I can spend conversing on this rant blog with you fine people. Believe me, if I could find the time (the fourth third, if you’ll suspend your mathy judgement for a moment) I’d be throwing up posts every day, full of the unsolicited, rambling, vitriol-filled advice you’ve come to expect when you visit Nic Widhalm is Mad. But sadly, one post a week will have to suffice for the moment.
All of this is a long-winded preamble to sheepishly admitting that I’ve come up a little short this week. But don’t worry! I’m good for it (just ask my bookie…but don’t tell him I sent you).
I’m just not good for it this week.
Why? Well, if you’ve made it this far without leaving in disgust I’ll shower you with some half-ass excuses (Never understood that expression. Do you want a full-ass excuse?).
- I’m working on the final, FINAL, draft of my novel, “The Tenth Order.” It’s the first book in a planned trilogy, and I’m working day and night to polish that puppy for submission. I’ve worked on this little guy for about five years, so this final push is taking a lot out of me. That said…I’m excited for you all to see it.
- Another short story is coming down the pipe-line. I’m incredibly humbled that my story, Razors and Rust, has been received so well, and now I’m preparing a new tale to inflict on the masses. A short-story (well, closer to novella if I’m being honest) involving reincarnated hobos, questionable Lotharios, poor dental hygiene, nuclear Armageddon, and a Subway train with sub-par safety standards (see, there I go again. Sorry Mrs. McGuire). I’m hoping to get this bad-boy out for digital consumption by October. Cross your fingers.
- Guest Blogs, interviews, and bears…oh my! Some of my colleagues have been crazy enough to invite me for a session of blog-pollution, which I’m just egotistical enough to accept. More to come.
- THE SECRET PROJECT! Oh yeah, and on top of that I’m working on a little secret project that I’ll reveal early next week. This is what’s currently occupying my time, and I’m sthuuuper excited to show it to you guys.
So there you go. As half-ass as they come. But please, stick with me, because I plan on making it up to you all very, very soon.
And since there is no blog-post today, I’ll leave you with this video instead:
An Interview with the Nanny
In Razors and Rust, our hero, Diego Santos, experiences a slow descent into madness. The story takes place over twenty years, covering Diego’s growing obsession with pyramid power, as well as his desperate need to answer questions Sir Wentworth Atlee has left behind.
It affects everyone around him, forever altering the lives of his wife, children, and closest friends.
But what about the nanny?
In an attempt to get to the root of Dr. Diego Santo’s obsession, I’ve invited Mrs. Pennyweather here to discuss her time at the Santos house, her years raising the children, and perhaps the most important question of all: which flavor of jam does Diego prefer on his toast? (Turns out it’s preserves.)
Warning: Mild spoilers for “Razors and Rust.”
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Mrs. Pennyweather, thank you for joining us today. I hope the flight was comfortable.
I’m sorry to say it was not. I rather doubt I will be traveling Egyptian Airlines again.
Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. What do you—
There weren’t even peanuts! Who doesn’t include peanuts on an eleven hour flight? Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed a legume? Dr. Santos wouldn’t allow them in the house. Said he was allergic. Though I never saw an inhaler…
Er…I see. Well, perhaps we should begin with the first time you met Dr. Santos, and how—
Not even pretzels? There should be a law: anytime you’re stuck on your bum for over an hour you get either baked snacks or peanuts.
I should have driven.
Mrs. Pennyweather, let’s try to stay on topic. Can you tell us about the first time you met Dr. Santos?
Yes, yes. The doctor. Well, he was a kind enough sort. Seemed a bit melancholy, though, always staring out the window and what-not. And not much use with the children. They’d yell after him, trying to get him to play a game or two, but he would just keep gazing out that window, ignoring the lot of us.
I remember one time little Wendell cut his finger and ran to Doctor Santos, crying and hollering, and making a mess of himself. I was about to grab him (the doctor didn’t care for noise. Sometimes he’d get the shakes if the children were carrying on), but Doctor Santos stopped me, and bent down to examine the cut. I thought he’d put a band-aide on it, or glue or something, but instead he…well…he…
Yes?
He grabbed a tiny paper pyramid out of his desk drawer and told Wendell to put his finger inside. Said he had to keep his finger in the pyramid for a couple of days and it would be healed.
Fascinating. Did it work?
I haven’t the foggiest idea. As soon as the doctor left I put a band-aide on it. No child of mine is going to run around with a pyramid on his finger.
Did that happen often?
Hmm…what, the pyramid? Of course not! What kind of household do you think I run?
I mean ignoring Diego Santos. He was your employer, wasn’t he?
I suppose so, but he never acted like one. In the early days I got instructions from the missus—
Julie Santos?
What? Yes. Stop interrupting or I’ll never finish.
Sorry.
You’re forgiven. Now, where was I…
Julie Santos used to give you instruction?
Now see? That’s what I’m talking about. Hush up.
Alright, let’s see, Mrs. Santos…
Yes. Right. She had some pretty strict rules for the little ones in the beginning. Only organic food, no television, no religion, no mention of Sir Wentworth Atlee, things like that.
Wasn’t Sir Atlee the family’s patron?
I suppose. Maybe. Doctor Santos didn’t seem to work, and Mrs. Santos was always traveling, vacationing…I guess the money had to come from somewhere. But the doctor wouldn’t talk about it, and the one time little Addy asked her mom if they were rich Mrs. Santos flew into a fit and wouldn’t speak with the children for days.
That’s why I never gave them the letter Sir Atlee…whoops! Nevermind that last bit.
Wait? What letter?
Hmm? Letter? There was no letter. I didn’t shred it.
Mrs. Pennyweather, what have you done?
Nothing! Don’t you judge me, young man. You have no idea what it was like to live with the Santos’. I wasn’t about to start a fight by giving them some letter from a man everyone knew was dead. What good could it have done? And besides, that nice, tall man—I think his name was Richy?—who delivered the letter warned me it might upset Doctor Santos.
Now why would I go and do that? The poor man could hardly hold a cup of coffee near the end. The last thing he needed was a shock.
And you shredded—
Oh my, look at the time. I’d better be off. It’s been forever since I’ve visited the States, and I hear they’re frying Oreos now! I’ve got to try that.
And maybe I’ll get some peanuts while I’m at it.
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Well, I’m afraid that raised more questions than it answered. But at least we know to avoid Egyptian Airways for the time being, or at the very least to bring our own snacks.
I’d like to thank Mrs. Pennyweather for joining us today, and wish her luck on her future travels.
And who knows? Perhaps someday we’ll find out what was in that letter.
It’s only a shredder, after all.
Razors and Rust Release Day!
The big day is here: RAZORS AND RUST is releasing as we speak in the Amazon Marketplace. If you have a Kindle (or even if you don’t, there’s free software you can download for your computer) I would be honored if you’d head over and check it out.
Heck, it’s only $.99—that won’t even buy a Double Cheeseburger anymore!
And if you wouldn’t mind leaving a review after you’ve read the story, I would be FOREVER GRATEFUL! I mean, grateful enough to write in all caps…that’s something.
Even a few sentences is enormously helpful, and the more reviews an e-book gets the higher it moves in Amazon’s ranking system. So, thank you in advance.
Without further ado, here is the brand new cover and jacket copy for Amazon’s newest story, RAZORS AND RUST!
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Diego Santos will never forget the day he met Sir Wentworth Atlee.
He had spent his whole life reading about the legendary recluse, but never expected to meet him. Until one day Diego is summoned to Atlee’s palatial estate. There, he discovers that Atlee has developed a plan that will change everything we know about life and death. It will unlock the deepest mysteries of the universe. Roll back time itself.
Or, at least that’s what Atlee says.
And all he needs is a pyramid…
