Thursday, April 12, 2012

Interview with Samantha (Just for fun)

   I wait, and not so patiently.  Okay, I'm trying to be patient.  I was told this lady had a penchant for being fashionably late to every appointment so I shouldn't be surprised.
   To pass the time, I immerse myself into the next project, coming across a difficult chapter that sucks me right in.  Just when I'm about to grasp that elusive cliffhanger, the gate rattles. 
   "Way to go, dog," I chide my Lab, who in reply, rolls, snorts, and goes back to sleep.
   The door opens and a vision of beauty looks apologetically around the door.
   "You won't believe the bloody traffic! Every wanker out there is under the impression the bloody motorway is theirs and theirs only.  Forgive me, luv," she says with an unrepentant smile. 
   I don't point out that in this part of Pennsylvania, traffic is nearly non-existent. 
   "Well, I'm here.  I hope you have some coffee, luv."
   "It's good to see you, Sam."
 Samantha Kay Reddick smiles brightly. An errant strand of chestnut hair sweeps over her unique silvery blue eyes.  She sits back and tucks it behind her ear, looking around with interest as she bites her lower lip, an indication of how nervous she is.  She wears her signature pencil skirt with a white blouse carelessly buttoned up in a way that makes no secret of her sheer camisole offering a tasteful hint of cleavage.
   "So this is where it happens."
   I nod.  "This is where I write."
   She looks out the window, smiling at the swing set and the trampoline in the backyard. Her eyes glance up at the shelf where several books, including THE GAZE, are lined up between bookends. She reads a few of the reviews I have hanging on a cork board and makes a face of disgust at the Sidney Crosby calendar, true to form for a staunch Red Wings fan. Her eyes scan the contents of my messy desk, making another face at the old Patriots mug I use as a pen holder, true to form for a Jets fan.
   "Apparently, you and Tony have a few things in common," she says, nodding at the mug and shaking her head.
   "A few," I consent.
  "Lewis has a talented decorator. You ought to call him," she says, pushing a bunch of flash drives around.
   "I don't think I'll be able to afford him any time soon, Sam."
  Unable to help herself, she crouches down to look at the old fashion, mechanical typewriter, an inspiring gift from one of my best friends. She types her name, the slamming of the printing heads echoing in the small room. "Is that the typewriter from your Facebook profile photo?"
   "It is. I can't imagine writing a novel on one of those."
   "You'd have to be bloody precise, luv. So, what are we here to discuss?"
   "A book.  But there's one rule," I tell her.
   "You know I often like to break the rules," she says with a wry smile.
   "Yes, I do. But I know you like secrets even more, so no divulging spoilers, okay?"
   She gives me a military salute. "Fire away, chap."

ME: Upon the completion of THE GAZE, one character emerged in such a way that the demand for  his story practically forced me to write it, are you surprised?

SR:  Blimey, no!  Not at all, luv.  I assume we're talking about my lovable pain in the bloody arse, best friend Lewis Bettford, are we not?  He's larger than life and I don't know how things might  have turned out had it not been for everything he did for me all my life.  I'm not surprised because he has always had this way of upstaging me.  His story most definitely needs to be told.

ME: What if I told you the story is already written?

SR:  Bloody hell!  I'd have to say, you'd best have made me look superbly sophisticated, intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous.  Do I get an advance copy?

ME: Not at this time.  If I asked you what do you expect out of this story, what would you say?"

SR:  Interesting... What's the title?

ME: The Next Chapter.

SR:  When I read GAZE I was thrown for a bloody loop. Just when I thought I knew what I was doing the turns would be so sudden it's a miracle I don't have permanent damage from the bloody whiplash.  I expect more of the same, although I'll warn you, Lewis can be a real diva.

ME: Sounds to me like you're okay with not being the center of attention.

SR:  Oh, but I most definitely expect to be a central part of the story.  After all, Lewis and I share a friendship like no other.

ME: A lot of people are theorizing you and Lewis will end up together.

SR:  That's an interesting possibility and a fair theory. 

ME: So that means...?

SR:  You said, no spoilers.  Hey, your bloody rules!

   In typical Samantha fashion, she breaks the one rule and rehashes quite a bit of THE GAZE.  To be fair to those of you who haven't read that story, I omitted much of this interview.  But I will say that Samantha and I  laughed, we reflected, and we shared a tearful embrace at the end.  It was quite a roller coaster after all.
   I made her promise to come back for another interview and she made me promise to allow her to break the "bloody" rules, and print her words.
   So, stay tuned.  My British friend has a lot to say...

   Javier A. Robayo

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

The Power of a Good Word on your Work

When I first thought of attempting writing a novel, my first test was impressing my wife and my father.
Upon completing THE GAZE, I figured if I manage to evoke an emotional response from my linear-thinking, frank, and overly practical wife, I was onto something.  I also figured that if I'm able to meet my dad's high standards, I was also onto something.
After a slew of corrections, I managed to do just that.  My wife not only reacted to the journey of Samantha Reddick with tears and laughter, she also became heavily, emotionally invested.  As an added bonus, my dad became my biggest fan.  Okay, so he became Samantha's biggest fan a bit more.
Having surpassed this initial hurdly, I braved the response of a small circle of readers, and the feedback was overwhelmingly positive.
It gave me much confidence and inspired me to do even better, but I also kept in the back of my head, that these people were dear friends, and a cynical part of me thought they might be humoring me.
So when the story worked its way into the hands of people I've yet to meet, who have messaged me to tell me how they loved the story, I was humbled and utterly overwhelmed. 
Recently I was asked what I wanted to accomplish in my writing and my response was simple, yet truthful, I wanted to write something that would be remembered long after the closing of the back cover.  I wanted to create a character with whom people identified, connected, and sympathized.
You writers out there, isn't it amazing the power of a few good words on your work have? 
I found that there's nothing I love more than talking to a reader who's speechless in an effort to express just what a novel you wrote did for them.  I consider it a great responsibility to a reader, to write something worth reading.  I've realized just how paramount that responsibility really is.
My goal was for one, ONE person to read my novel, and like it.  ONE good word about my writing was enough to reward me for all the hours spent at the keyboard for so long.
I'm happy to say that THE GAZE has done that and more, and I dare dream just how far it may go.
Those encouraging words and amazing comments will keep me writing for the rest of my life.
Happy Writing Everyone!