Lady Stardust Speaks

Over the weekend I conducted an interview–a rather strange one, at that.  But then, I like strange.  I hope you like reading this as much as I liked doing it.

Remember:  strange.

 

(Location:  New Oxford, University, Hyades Star Cluster. 2 June, a little more than 20 Minutes Into the Future.)

Greetings, young and eager minds of New Oxford and Miskatonic Universities. Welcome to another addition of Author’s Profile—or as I like to called it, “Audrey’s Excuse For Eating Up Web Time.” As you can see I’ve brought along the noted historian and local stuffy peer, the Duchess Scoth, the Lady Cytheria . . . That special personal I call “Sweetie”. Say hello, Sweetie.

*Glares at Audrey* Hello, everyone. To my students out there, please do ignore Audrey’s excessive rambling this day: I’m afraid she’s had a tad too much coffee.

It’s only too much if you start vomiting and get the shakes, my dear.

I believe you had both—

*Snorts* Well, then, lets move on. Today we have a special treat. We’re speaking with a new authors who’s sort of . . . It’s a bit confusing, but if you’ve been paying attention in class you’ll know what I mean. So, joining us now on the hyperwire, we have—

*Whispering* Did you clear this with—you know.

*Audrey speaking out of the corner of her mouth* On’tday alktay aboutway ethay imetay aveltray, neh?

*Cytheria sits back in her chair, shaking her head*

(Audrey) If you will please welcome, coming to us live from her home, the one, the lovely, Cassidy Frazee.

(Cassidy) Thank you, Audrey, for that warm welcome. Did you say “Miskatonic University”?

(Audrey) I think you mis-heard me.

(Ca) Ah. Okay, then . . . Thank you for having me, then.

(A) Yo have a new novel out, Her Demonic Majesty. It came out, what? A couple of weeks ago?

(Ca) Yeah, times flies, you know? Feels like yesterday.

(A) *Turns to Cytheria* If she only knew . . .

(Cytheria) *Ignores Audrey* Congratulation, Cassidy. It’s my understanding your endeavor to publish this novel has taken some time.

(Ca) Yes, that’s true. I’ve been working on this novel for a year and a half.

(A) Tell us what you’ve done during that time, if you would.

(Ca) As anyone who’s followed my blog since 2011—

(Cy) Blog?

(A) You remember, Sweetie? People write and then post their scribblings on the . . . “Internet”? *winking* Yeah?

(Cy) Oh, of course. Silly me. *Nervous laugh* Go on, Cassidy.

(Ca) Sure. I’ve been blogging since the middle of 2011, and it was in November of that year that I decided—well, was sort of talked into—writing something during NaNoWriMo—

(A) The National Novel Writing Month?

(Ca) Yes, that. I’d been asked to do it the year before, but bailed because—well, a lot of things, really. Mostly personal things, like just not being able to write due to depression.

(Cy) Audrey can certainly empathize with you there.

(Ca) Oh? You get that, too?

(A) *Mumbling* More times than I care to like. Tell us about the experience.

(Ca) It’s all about getting it written and edited. I wrote the first draft in twenty-five days, then edited it three times before handing it off to another person so they could give it a good cleaning. Even after that I found a few typos and cleaned them up—

(Cy) Not uncommon for any published work.

(Ca) So I’ve been told. Then it was setting up account, getting covers made, getting everything formatted . . . When you’re self publishing, there’s a lot of work involved in getting your story in a shape that makes it worth putting it out there for others to read.

(A) I know. I’ve been through my copy of your novel a couple of times, and you did a great job with the layout. Very professional.

(Ca) Thank you for buying it.

(A) *Sets hard copy down* Yes, buying it . . . Tell me, how do you go about promoting a novel?

(Ca) That, too, is an interesting process. You have people put out good word of mouth for the book. You set up a writer’s page and trying to get the message out to as many people as possible. You ask people to give you reviews and to spread the word. You listen when you have a mistake and fix things as quickly as possible. It’s a huge amount of hustle, and it wears you out.

(A) You write in a few genres: science fiction, fantasy, horror, erotica. How do you classify Her Demonic Majesty? It seems like it should be fantasy, but it’s . . . not.

(Ca) I like to call it my science fiction fantasy with touches of steampunk. I think this particular novel covers so many bases that it’s nearly impossible to pin to one genre. I want to write stories; I don’t want to think I have to write any particular kind of stories.

(A) You were always critical of genres, and it seems—

(Ca) *Confused* “Were”?

(Cy) Audrey tends to have problems with her tenses— *Glances to Audrey and smiles* Isn’t that right, my love?

(Ca) *Muttering* Wibbly wobbly . . . After reading the novel I wondered if there will be any sequels. Any chance?

(Ca) *Smiling* One never knows. Lets just say that I know what happens to the characters in the story for a few years past the events in the novel, so maybe their will be other books. I’ve got so many stories I want to do—

(A) Science fiction? Fantasy? Erotic Japanese Tentacle Romances?

(Ca) What?

(Cy) I’ve heard writers say that it’s not unusual for segments of their personality to make it into their stories. Did that happen with you here, with this novel?

(Ca) Let me answer that second part first . . . With this novel I wouldn’t say much of my personality entered the novel say for some of the more geekish parts of Jeannette’s personality. I drew on my own experiences as a reader and a gamer to get an idea about the sort of things she might enjoy and do.

Beyond that, I don’t put too much of myself in my stories. Though there are a few stories, as yet unpublished, where more of “me” shines through than in other stories.

(Cy) You seem to write a great number of female characters. Any particular reason?

(Ca) I like writing women; it’s difficult to get them right, I think. I hope I’m doing a good job at presenting characters who can handle anything thrown at them, who don’t need to go running to the nearest guy screaming, “Please save me!”

And if they do work with men—as one of my characters has done in two stories—they work with them as equals. They know what they’re doing; they’re not afraid to speak their mind and follow up with their own lines of inquiry. And the men they work with aren’t threatened by a woman who knows as much, or more, than they.

(A) Sort of like Cytheria and me.

(Ca) That would be true if you were both like a couple of characters I developed. It’s strange, you know: Cytheria, you have the same name as—

(A) Fascinating! So, a couple of human interest question. First: boxers or briefs?

(Ca) Um . . . Boy shorts.

(A) Really?

(Cy) Audrey loves bikini bottoms. Never took her for that sort of girl.

(A) Silence, Sweetie. Fly or drive?

(Ca) Depends on the distance. I’ll fly to other parts of the world, but if it’s less than a thousand miles, I’ll drive.

(Cy) What’s the furthest you’ve flown?

(Ca) Around the world: Chicago to Minneapolis to Amsterdam to Hong Kong to Tokyo to Minneapolis to Chicago. Not all at once, mind you: it took about eight weeks. But Chicago to Hong Kong is probably the longest continuous trip with layovers of a few hours.

(A) Favorite writer?

(Ca) Too many to list. I love to read.

(A) Favorite movie?

(Ca) It’s impossible to have a favorite. Maybe twenty, thirty favorites. But one? No. For the record, quite a few from the 1950’s, 60’s, and 70’s.

(A) If you could be a tree, what would you be?

(Ca) Um . . . Kristian Stewart?

(A) Cheap shot!

(Ca) Who wants to be a tree?

(A) Poison Ivy?

(Ca) Point taken.

(Cy) Would you prefer to live in the past or the future?

(Ca) There’s something to say about growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, though if I had to go through that again, I’d rather do it with a few things changed . . . If I had a choice, I’d pick the future—maybe two or three hundred years from now. Nothing’s happening these days, and I’m bored. I’d like to see what’s coming down the time line.

(A) Some interesting things, let me tell you.

(Ca) And you know this how?

(A) *Long pause* That was the drugs talking . . .

(Cy) Pay no attention to her, Cassidy.

(Ca) Thank you—Duchess? Like in the song?

(Cy) No, a duchess is what I am.

(Ca) Do you know Albert? He’s a born loser.

(A) *Now glaring at Cassidy* On that note . . . I’d like to thank Cassidy for appearing today. It’s been a lot of fun speaking with you.

(Cy) I agree. Thank you for agreeing to speak with us.

(Ca) Thank you both for having me.

(A) Oh, and August, 2015: if you’re smart you’ll cancel your trip to Boston.

(Cy) Audrey!

(Ca) I’m sorry—what?

(A) *Mumbling* See who’s the loser now! *Turning to the virtual audience* That’s it for today! Join us next week when we interview Cleopatra and find out if she was bi, or just really horny. Bye!

 

Are you looking for Her Demonic Majesty?  Look here!

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See you next time!

The Future Epiphany

Readers of this blog know that I like to listen to music.  Not so much the music that is pandered about these days, but rather the music of my youth—which is to say, strange music.  I was into a lot of things from the late 1960’s to the early 1980’s, but for a while, in the middle there, I was heavily into progressive rock.

One of the groups I listened to quite a lot was Genesis.  Foxtrot was the first album of note that I remember (because it was played on the radio), but I remember having Selling England By the Pound, and then on to Wind and Wuthering and Seconds Out, skipping The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway and A Trick of the Tail.  After the various breakups I also bought And Then There Were Three . . . and Duke—

And it’s last that has me wondering what sort of things are going on in my mind.

See, back in 1979 we didn’t have an Internet.  No, don’t tell me we did:  I know what you’re trying to say, and I’m talking about an Internet I could access without having NORAD.  Chill, okay?  Back to my point . . . It was difficult, at best, to get news about certain things that we today take for granted.  Today if you want to know about albums and tours, you hop online and just about anything you want is at your Google-capable fingertips.  Back in my day, if you wanted to get the lowdown on stuff like, say, lyrics, you had to get the album and read the liner notes, or you bought a—gasp!—magazine.

I like the Duke album a lot, though I didn’t play it as much as I could as I was going to school at the time, and most of my days and nights were caught up with working and studying.  I never had the chance to see Genesis in concert, so when they were touring in support of Duke, I missed the story Phil Collins told at the start of the six-song Duke Suite:  The Story of Albert.

Today I know about this story because I’ve watched, more than a few times, the recording made at the Lyceum Ballroom, London, on 7 May, 1980.  It’s out on YouTube, so watch it if you have a couple of hours and you want to hear some historic music, and see the way people used to perform.  I’ve even heard the Story of Albert many times as well, though I didn’t feel a connection until the other day—

The story starts out, “Albert . . . was a born loser . . .” He never did anything right, he was one of life’s failures.  There was a problem, however:  “Albert fell in love with a lady:  The Duchess.”  There were problems here, though, ‘cause “The Duchess was a domineering lady:  she was into S and M.”  And this led to other problems because Albert didn’t speak Spanish, so The Duchess kicked his ass out.  Poor Albert.

So where is this going?

About the thirtieth time I’d heard this story, the light went on, and I was blinded by the following revelation:  in my story Transporting, one of the main characters is named Albert, and he is pretty much a born loser as well.  Not only that, but he meets a woman who kidnaps him and hauls his butt off to the future.  That woman is used to getting her way, because she was Cytheria, also known by her title:  The Duchess.

And once in the future, Albert couldn’t help but fall in love . . .

I didn’t begin writing Transporting until 1989, so ten years had passed between the time I put words to computer and the moments when The Story of Albert was being told in concert halls around the world.  I never saw those concerts, nor did I even know of this story until last year.

Was there some kind of connection there, my mind somehow picking up a bit of creativity floating about that decided to impart this knowledge, and make is serve as the basis for a story that was going to consume a large part of my life for the last couple of decades?  I have no idea.  But now I do wonder about how it is we come up with ideas such as mine, which seemed to have been influenced by a story I’d never heard until 2012.

Or maybe . . .

It sets up an interesting scene I want to do for a story now.  Since Cytheria and Albert can travel about in time, and since the dates of the Lyceum Ballroom concerts are so close to the time of their birthdays (I don’t even want to consider the coincidences there), they go back to stand in the crowd and hear the concert.  And when Phil gets to telling the Story of Albert, my Albert turns to his lady love and reiterates how he was a born loser, but eventually he fell in love with The Duchess . . . and Cytheria reminds him, “But you don’t know Spanish, so I’ll have to throw you out.”

And then they’ll laugh and spend the next thirty minutes holding each other as the music plays.

Sometimes I amaze myself with these things.

Emotions Across the Ages

Taking a moment here, thinking about the day ahead.  I was suppose to get a lot of writing in yesterday, but that notion was sabotaged (or do you say, “sabotagged”?) because of all the IMs I got yesterday.  I tell you, people are gabby.  They want to know how you’re doing all the time.  Which is really good, since a lot of the issues I’ve been having of late have do with people just not seeming to give a shit.

Really, though, I was able to get some writing in between bouts of sending off IMs.  In the last three days, even with all the crap going on at the moment, I’ve knocked out probably fifteen hundred words for Part Eleven of Diners at the Memory’s End.   The story is really wearing me out, to be honest.  I so want to get through it and get the story told.  I know I’ve spent a lot of time getting this story written–part of the stress I’m feeling probably has to do with the fact that I’m just plodding through this damn thing.  I mean, I do five hundred words, and all I can think is, “Damn, you could have done better.”

I need to stop being so hard on myself.

It’s an interesting scene in the story right now, because I have Cytheria using her abilities to tear up dummies like nobody’s business.  She tore the arm off one dummy, and snapped the legs of another, right as she was freezing the hell out of both.  If they’d been real people, she would have been in the process of freezing them to death before messing them up by shattering and ripping them up.  Yeah, she’s a mean girl.  She has reasons to get rid of her stress, but still:  she’s going to be a bit surprised by her actions when it’s all said and done.

The following parts are going to make for an interesting  transition, as they tone things down considerably.  It’s all about talking and working things out.  It’s all about coming to an understanding of what happened, and what will happen.  it’s all about coming together, finding common ground, and developing a solution that works for everyone.

It’s also about not letting Cytheria go on a rampage and rip another girl to shreds, and I don’t mean verbally.  This isn’t Mean Girls stuff; this is more like Jean Grey going all Phoenix on some girl’s ass, and leaving a smoking husk of a body behind when she’s finished with her ten seconds of hard work.

It’s not even close to being fair.  And she knows it.

In a way I love writing this part.  Never mind the stuff I’m going through:  poor Cytheria has to deal with emotions she’s never felt before now, and given that she could lay waste to any number of people were she to put her mind to it–yes, fear her, because she is all powerful!–she knows she can’t just go off on a rant and slap someone if she gets upset.  ’Cause, lets face it, said slap could take a person’s face off if she wanted that to happen.

Good thing she doesn’t have laser vision, or crap could get very serious.