The Trouble With Fate
What can you tell us about your new book The Trouble with Fate?
Hedi Peacock is a 22-year-old, half-Fae, half-Were, whose life has come down to three things: her job at Starbucks, her mostly batty aunt and her amulet with an attitude. Life is predictable until the Alpha of Creemore kidnaps Lou and Hedi is forced to steal another amulet to get her back. Enter Robson Trowbridge. Six feet of too-pretty-for-words and the one wolf Hedi swore she’d kill if she ever met again.
So many books have been released about werewolves recently, so what does your book bring to the table that is fresh for readers of this genre?
Well, here’s an admission: I didn’t bone up on my werewolf mythology before starting the first novel. That oversight turned into an unexpected plus. Not fettered by rules, I was able to do exactly what I wanted—which was to listen to Hedi’s jaundiced opinions about those who turn furry. Who knew? Her werewolves are born, not made. And the blood running through their veins? It’s Fae. You’d think that would make the wolves of Creemore a trifle friendlier to those born with pointed ears.
Nope.
Hedi has some feelings about that.
Tell us about the development of the story from your initial ideas.
The novels started with the character. I knew I wanted to write about a girl who was neither kick-ass nor beautiful. Someone who wouldn’t know what to do with a sword if it was thrust into her hand. A smart-ass, given to snark, who finds herself at odds with Karma.
Why? We’re not all blonde, lithe and fearless. Actually, most of us are distinctly un-Buffy-like. Yes, we have skills—serious ones—but they’re not the ones typically associated with heroes. And our track record? It may suck. We may have taken an early run at our destiny and gone splat. And yes, it might have taken us longer to recognize that the hero part comes after we pick ourselves up and lift our middle finger.
I wanted to write about that girl (she who stumbles) but finding her authentic voice proved difficult. My story kept spluttering out a few chapters in. My protagonist was too polite, too passive. She was just too damn nice. Then one day, petty-thief Hedi Peacock whispered in my ear, “What do tree huggers call it?” I grinned and wrote that down. I’d finally found my heroine.
Your critics have said that you create dynamic characters, so is this something you try hard to achieve or a natural talent?
Natural talent—dang, I wish I had more of that. What I do have is vast hours of people watching to draw on. (I’m about your mother’s age. Chris Hemsworth would call me Ma’am.) I’ve run across a few ‘types’ in my life and have always been amazed at how much is buried below the surface. Like most writers, I’m curious. Why are they like that?
Since my brain likes to make up stories when it’s not doing important things like coming up with an excuse for why I forgot to pay a bill, I often create with my own explanations. Same goes for my characters. Thus, I know about Cordelia’s first love and what Harry did during those ten years he left the pack. Don’t even get me started with Mad-one.
Maybe that’s what the reader sees—not the things written on the page but the glint of those things hidden beneath the words.
Your next book The Thing About Weres is out in July, so what can you tell us about this?
Six months after the Gates of Merenwyn swallowed her significant other, Hedi finds herself sitting on her pirate rock, considering the night sky. Star light, star bright. As Alpha-by-proxy, she’d expected turmoil and strife but life had turned out to be less about fur and secret handshakes and more about grievance sessions over property lines and leaf blowers.
I wish I may, I wish I might. Where was the magic to her fairy tale? More importantly, where was Trowbridge? Get the wish I wish tonight.
Wouldn’t you know it? Someone was listening.
When did your interest in werewolves begin?
About three weeks after I threw out the bare bones of a manuscript featuring a young witch named Hedi Peacock.
What is your favourite novel?
Tough one. As I have the hardest time colouring inside the lines, I’m going to give you a few (in no particular order): Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, the Horatio Hornblower series by C.S. Forester, Flowers From the Storm by Laura Kinsale, Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey, the Richard Sharpe series by Bernard Cornwell, Trustee from the Toolroom by Nevil Shute, Reflex by Dick Francis and Ain’t She Sweet by Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
Do you have a writing process?
Generally, I’m at the computer by 8:30 a.m. I’ll write until lunch, then break for an hour, after which I hit the keyboard for another session until my husband’s key turns in the door. Despite all that time wrestling with words, my daily word count is annoyingly low. I wish I wasn’t a delete-key addict, but there you go: I am what I am. Most of my scenes will go through the wash and spin cycle at least six or seven times before I’m satisfied.
What is next for you beyond the next novel in the Mystwalker series?
As I’m contracted for four Mystwalker novels, I’ll be fairly busy until the end of 2014. After that, if anyone’s interested, I may write Lexi’s book.
When did you know that you wanted to be a writer?
A few years ago, I’d reached a crossroads. I’d been a stay-at-home Mom for a couple of decades but my kids had grown up on me (sneaky devils) and they were out on their own. Hurrah? I’d nailed the Martha Stewart profile. My house was pretty and my garden was superb. I could wallpaper a dining room in 4 hours. I could turn a heel on a sock. I knew how to needlepoint, use a zipper foot and had earned a few ‘wows’ with my paintbrush. The only thing I hadn’t gotten around to doing was the scrapbooking thing. (Though I had bought the paper punch and scissors.)
Then one day, it all stopped. On a dime—or more factually—on a couch.
I was 50 years old, stretched out on the sofa, watching an Oprah rerun. That’s when it occurred to me that I could spend the rest of my life doing nothing in particular and it wouldn’t really matter. I could watch talk show reruns and just fade away. Slowly. One day merging into the upholstery.
Hell, no. That’s the day my fuzzy desire to write a book turned into a raging need.
So keep that in mind if you ever find yourself at a similar crossroad. If you’re tired of being what you are then be something different. You don’t have to jettison everything. Start by getting off the couch. Then open your eyes. What can you do? What do you want to do?
You can reinvent yourself. If you chose to believe only one thing today, believe that.