Tag Archives: Author

Interview with author Arthur Graham

I am so excited to share with you all the man, the myth, the legend …. wait isn’t that Ron Burgundy? I haven’t seen that movie so not sure. Any hoo Arthur Graham!

That’s right he’s here to talk about his tall tales and his short um stories. Guys love it when you talk about their short stories so I’m happy to share. Enjoy. Thanks Arthur 🙂

 

 

What is something about you that most people don’t know?

Well, let’s see… What’s the statute of limitations on something like felony arson, anyway?

o.O

 

 

Favorite books and authors?

W.S. Burroughs and Kurt Vonnegut Jr. are two of my favorite American authors, and probably my most readily apparent influences. Then of course there’s the original dirty old man (to whom we all aspire), Charles Bukowski. I read a lot of other stuff as well, but I’d rather not bore you to death by talking too much about it.

What are you reading now?

The Master and Margarita, by Mikhail Bulgakov. Satan. Vodka. Talking cats. Loads of fun!

I’m also in the process of reading/editing Voltaire’s Adventures Before Candide, an absurd romp through the mind of Martin D. Gibbs, and the second volume of Tall Tales with Short Cocks — both due out from Bizarro Press this fall.

What is your work space and routine like?

My workspace is far from ideal. I have thrift shop desk, a frayed pleather chair, and an iMac that’s like already two years old. Sigh…

When I get home from my day job, I’ll typically park it, check my inbox for fan mail, screw around on Goodreads for a while, grab a bottle of wine and screw around some more. Maybe I’ll do some research or play around with cover designs in Photoshop. About halfway through the wine I’ll finally get down to serious business, and after that there’s about a fifty/fifty chance I might get some actual work done that night. If you ever wondered why I don’t have more books published, there’s your answer.

Any unusual writing quirks or habits?

I never learned how to use the Shift key properly, and so I TEND TO USE CAPS LOCK FOR CAPITALIZATION.

Also, although I do enjoy background music, I find it nearly impossible to write and listen to lyrics at the same time. I get hung up on the words, so most of the time I tune in to some sort of trance/house/ambient shit instead, which doesn’t always help either. Pro tip: If your eye starts to twitch uncontrollably, it’s time to turn down the dubstep.

Bizarro, what about it appeals to you?

I’ve been writing really strange, completely inappropriate stuff since I was in fourth grade, so it’s just nice to have a genre I can call home. Also, it’s much easier to sell books when you can label them something besides “literary fiction.”

Do you ever want to write something different, try out another genre?

Smut. I’ve been told that mine isn’t half bad, but I think that’s just because I never take it too seriously. Clearly, there’s only so much humor one can indulge in while keeping things sexy, but however sexy sex may be, at the end of the day it’s all really quite ridiculous. There’s nothing more eye-roll-inducing to me than an earnestly written, cliche-ridden description of some banal (or perhaps even exotic) sex scenario. We’ve seen it all, heard it all, and done it all before. I’d rather have fun with things.

Tall Tales with Short Cocks. So. . . Who came up with the title?

That title came out of a joint brainstorm session between Etienne DeForest and I. We were quite pleased with this selection, and readers seemed to dig it as well — sales through the roof initially. But then we started getting all these returns… Why? Although there’s nothing titillating on the cover (unless tiny roosters are your thing), and we never classified it as erotica, we eventually came to the conclusion that people saw the word “cock” in the title and made the decision to buy based on that alone. I suppose at least a few of those readers may have been dissatisfied with the stories for other reasons, but that still doesn’t explain why so many of them were apparently expecting to read about little wieners instead. Then again, I suppose there’s a fetish for everything these days…

I can’t wait to read Editorial. A goodreads review has a Boston Terrier humping a Picachu toy and says that gif sums up the contents another that mind fucking would occur. Would you say that’s accurate? How would you describe it?

Owing to the physical constraints of space and time, there are only so many people I can fuck from where I’m currently seated. That’s why I write books to get into their brain-pants instead, sowing my seed into the minds of unsuspecting boys and girls worldwide, via the interwebs. I’ll take whatever action I can get.

You live in Utah, is it the land of endless bizarro material or not as much as one would imagine?

Utah is known for its cheerful residents and record antidepressant prescriptions, chaste populace and online pornography subscriptions. We can’t buy liquor on Sundays, but we can openly carry our firearms any day of the week. We still employ shock therapy in the hopes that it will cure the gay. I guess the main benefit of living in Utah is that a guy can have multiple wives if he wants, although one usually seems like plenty enough for me.

I sincerely doubt that Arthur Graham could ever out-bizarro the Book or Mormon, but I’d certainly be up for the challenge!

What’s next from you and when?

Well, I’ve made a lot more money editing the work of others than selling my own lately, but I’m sure I’ll start my next half-baked, doomed-from-the-start project soon enough. I’d really love to try my hand at a straight novel one of these days, if I can ever shake my obsession with flying toilets, hermaphroditic snakes, and transsexual biker bears, that is…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hailing from the north woods of Michigan, Arthur Graham currently resides in Salt Lake City, Utah, with his wife and her cat. He writes his books alone in the dark, usually nude, surrounded by empty bottles and loaded guns.

His style is one that willingly loses itself in the false dichotomy between “genre” and “literary” fiction, with much of it cleaving towards satire and surrealism. His work has been called “clever,” “tacky,” and even “a bit obscene.” One reviewer was kind enough to label it “Burroughs-lite.”

His novella, Editorial, was recently picked up by Bizarro Press (http://bizarropress.com/).

One day, he hopes to sell enough books to supplement his drinking habit, but not so many that he’s forced to claim the income on his taxes.

 

 

Author interview for Angel’s Heart blog tour

Welcome to the Angel’s Heart tour. Today I am hosting with an interview with author Lisa Bilbrey. If anyone has additional questions for Lisa comment away and thanks to Lisa for being on and to Ali in letting me be part of her new venture 🙂

 

Please tell me about yourself –

Hmm, okay, I always feel a little odd talking about myself, but I will give it a go. I’m Lisa, a stay at home mom of three. My kids are my world, and I feel so blessed to have been able to watch them grow and mature each day. I married my high school sweetheart sixteen years ago, and I am still just as in love with him. He has given me the strength and courage to put myself out there and let my voice be heard.

What is your work space and routine like? –

I write in the living room. I cleared out a corner and nestled me in a little desk behind our couches. It’s my office, and like with most offices, my desk is cluttered with papers from the kids, notes I’ve jotted down in an effort to stay organized, and about a million pens that seem to disappear the moment I need one.
As far as my routine, it’s pretty much the same every day. I get my kids up, order them to eat breakfast and get ready for school. When they ignore that, I threaten to walk them to school in my nightgown. That usually works. Once they are off to school, I settled in for a day of work. I use the first couple hours in the morning to work on promotion and marketing, then I get right into writing. I typically spend the better part of eight to ten hours a day writing.

What do you like to do when not writing? –

I love to watch my kids playing football/ baseball/softball. They are very active and keep us busy. I love to read, I listen to music, and occasionally, I clean my house.

Some favorite authors and books? –

All of the Harry Potter books have to rank in my top, as well as J.K. Rowling. I love anything by Nicholas Sparks, even if they do make me cry, and I adore delving into a good Stephen King novel. He writes twisted so well.

What is the most important thing you’ve learned since publishing your first book? –

Oh, gosh, um, not to give up just because I’m not an instant success. I write because I love it, because for me it’s who I am, and what I do. As long as I have a story to tell, I will be writing. I just hope that someone out there wants to read it.

Please tell me about your newest book Angel’s Heart –

Angel’s Heart: The Keeper is my favorite of all of my books. It’s my baby, the first book I ever started to write, and it took me a while to get the courage up to finish it. In Angel’s Heart, we meet Sophie, a young woman who finds herself at a crossroads in life. Her career has stalled, and she feels like something is missing, yet she can’t figure out what it is. At the insistence of her two best friends, Deva and Tabitha, Sophie agrees to go to Sayar Island, off the coast of Oahu, Hawaii, for an art festival. What she doesn’t know is that her life is about to change in ways she couldn’t have imagined. Sophie finds out that she’s a witch, and a powerful one at that. For more information, well, you’ll just have to read the book.

What do you have planned next? –

I have a sequel to Angel’s Heart: The Keeper in progress. It’s called Angel’s Heart: The True Enemy and picks up about six months after The Keeper ends. I can’t wait to get all the secrets out. Also, I have a new release coming out in a few weeks called The Journey Home. It will be part of Harvest Treats, Book Three of the Candy Collection. Plus, I have another book in the works that will be part of the fourth book of the Candy Collection.

Dastardly Bastards – Author Edward Lorn guest post

I’m super excited about today’s guest post written by author Edward Lorn. His new book Dastardly Bastards is one that I really want to read as it sounds awesome! Check it out. Thanks Edward for kindly being on and letting me be part of the tour.

 

Writing: Gift or Curse?

I’ve spent my entire life focused on the human condition. I’m a people-watcher, always have been. One of my favorite pastimes is sitting around a coffee shop or my local Waffle House, studying the crowd around me. I learned early on that I have a knack for paying attention to more than one conversation at a time. For instance, I can listen to you talking to me from across the table, even join in and hold my own, but all the while I am listening to the couple behind me discuss their concerns over bringing a baby into such a seemingly violent, Godless world. My talent, gift, curse, whatever you want to call it, stems from being an only child of sorts (I have two sisters, but both were teenagers when I was born). Sure, I had my own television in my room attached to multiple video game consoles, shelves full of books I’d read and re-read countless times, sports equipment that sat in the corner mostly unused, but what really interested me were some of the conversations my parents would have when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. I would find myself playing a game or reading a book, and my parent’s voices would bleed in, drawing my attention. I could still remember the nuances of the level I’d just completed in my game, or the chapter I’d just read, but Mom and Dad’s back and forth would be there, too. I often used this tool while in school. Time and time again, I’d be talking to my friends when the teacher would call on me, certain that I hadn’t been paying attention. I’d answer the question and go back to my discussion about whether or not the next Sonic the Hedgehog game would be just as rad as the last one. My teachers remained frustrated with me, as I was distracting my friends from their studies, but I didn’t realize that until years later. I always thought, “What’s the big deal? I answered your question.” It passed right over my head that when my buddies were called on, they weren’t able to answer.

Now that I’m an author, I use my gift to my advantage. I can stare off into the distance, possibly looking like a fifth grader ruminating on quantum physics, while soaking up everything around me. In an instant, I can tell you exactly what table two ordered and how long they’ve been waiting. I know how table four’s meal tastes because the wife can’t shut up about how cheesy and greasy and oh, so tasty her hashbrowns are. I assume the couple at that last table are married because of the ring on her finger and the faux expression on the man’s face. He’s trying to look interested in his wife’s hashbrowny-goodness, but he’s failing miserably. The waitress has hurt her ankle during her cigarette break. She wasn’t limping or reeking of menthol the last time I saw her. There’s a wet floor sign next to the swinging door that allows entrance to the back room. I assume someone mopped something up, and she just didn’t pay any attention to it. She is worried about her kids, after all. She told the people in the corner booth that much while filling their coffee. “How old’s your boy? Five? My son’s his age, and he’s twice your boy’s size. Maybe I should get him checked, huh?” She laughs about this, but there are nerves present. I think, “Maybe you should stop feeding your kid Waffle House for dinner if you’re worried about his girth.” This I know because she told David, the cook, not to forget to make her son’s plate before he clocks out. David knows just how—Kirk? Kirt? Kurt? I don’t know because of the lady’s accent—likes his grilled cheese with ham and onions, and oh, don’t forget the extra butter on the toast because Ithaca always screws up and forgets the extra butter, then, poor Kirk? Kirt? Kurt? gets mad, and her night is shot. I don’t know who Ithaca is. I know she’s probably named after a city in New York and possibly cooks on David’s nights off. The writer in me knows that much.
I know I’m going to write about them when I get home. This gift, curse, talent, whatchamacallit doesn’t allow me to do any differently. Because if I don’t write it down, that waitress, along with Kirk? Kirt? Kirk?, David, Ithaca, Hasbrown-Lover, Absent-Faced Hubby, even the fact that table two never did get their meal while I was still sitting there will run rampant in my mind. I’ll toss and turn to the dulcet tones of some child wailing about not having enough butter on his Texas toast while his mother ices her ankle and puffs on a Newport. I don’t know if the waitress/mother is a drinker, but in my mind, she is. There’s a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon on the folding dinner tray next to her recliner. The man alongside her and Kirk? Kirt? Kurt? in the picture on the mantel is nowhere to be found, but she still toasts the celluloid and says she misses him. The boy looks a lot like him. This makes her smile.

Though my way of seeing things can be a burden, I keep coming back for more. I suppose I’m just a glutton for punishment because I’ll still show up at the coffee shop tomorrow, or maybe I’ll go back to that Waffle House just to see what shenanigans people are up to. I’m addicted, and as with any addiction, there are highs and lows. I stay for the good and write about the bad.

Maybe you’ll join me. I’d love to hear what you think about how my brain works. Shoot, tell me how your brain works. Let’s have a discussion. I’m really easy to find.
Oh, and before you go, try one of my books. I think you’d like Dastardly Bastard. I had a lot of fun with those characters. Hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.

Edward can be found on his site / publisher / goodreads

Dastardly Bastards is his most recent release

Teaser Tuesday

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

* Grab your current read
* Open to a random page
* Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

* BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

My teaser is from another great zombie book, I’m on a zombie fix apparently going from one right on to another. The Infection by Craig DiLouie appealed so much to me I contacted the author asking for an interview Craig kindly indulged me as did the Dallas library when I asked them to get a copy which being an awesome library they did just that.Craig writes apocalyptic horror the kind that makes you go oh shit that’s bad frequently while reading his work.

The Killing Floor a sequel just came out in early April. Can you say TBR yep another to add. I’m loving The Infection so far and highly recommend checking it out. Review coming soon.

From Page 56

The Screaming changed everything. Millions of people lay helpless and twitching on the ground.

Taste by Kate Evangelista book trailer and excerpt

One of the really awesome thing about blogger friends is they let you know when something really cool is on, like an author having a big reveal for their new book. When you get to take part you know you’re in for some fun.

Taste looks and sounds fantastic so I’m thrilled to be able to share the book trailer and a little nibble for you all to sink your teeth into. Enjoy 🙂

Song Credits: “Hunger” © Noelle Pico.

Full Download available at http://sheisnoelle.bandcamp.com

 

Taste Excerpt 2

I sat up and followed Calixta’s gaze upward. I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t know what I was seeing at first. A statue? My brain refused to snap together coherent thoughts. I didn’t realize I’d fallen so close to one of the garden benches until I stared up at the boy that sat on one. He was strikingly beautiful. His tumble of blonde hair curled just above his sculpted cheekbones. He wore a silk shirt and a loosened cravat, like he’d become bored while dressing and decided to leave himself in disarray. His ivory skin and frozen position was what had me mistaking him for something carved from marble by Michelangelo. Then he sighed—a lonely, breathy proof of life. If I had to imagine what Lucifer looked like before he fell from heaven, the boy on the bench would certainly fulfill that image. My brain told me I had to look away, but I couldn’t.

“Luka,” Calixta said again, her voice unsure, almost nervous. It no longer contained the steel and bite she had threatened me with, which made me wonder who the boy was.

He leaned on his hands and crossed his legs, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the night sky. His movements spoke of elegance and control. I’d encountered many people with breeding before, but his took on the air of arrogance and self-assuredness of someone used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

I only realized I’d been holding my breath when my lungs protested. I exhaled. My heart sputtered and restarted with a vengeance. Luka tore his gaze away from the stars and settled it on me. I’d expected pitch-black irises, like the other Night Students, but blue ice stared back at me.

“Human,” he whispered.

He reached out, and with a finger, followed an invisible trail down my cheek. I stiffened. His touch, cooler than Demitri’s, caused warm sparks to blossom on my face. He lifted his finger to his lips and licked its tip. He might as well have licked me from the way my body shivered.

Luka’s curious gaze held mine. “Leave us,” he said, but not to me.

“But—” Calixta protested like a spoiled child.

He spoke in a language I hadn’t heard before, remaining calm yet firm. The words had a rolling cadence I couldn’t quite follow, like rumbling thunder in the distance. They contained a harsh sensuality. The consonants were hard and the vowels were long and lilting.

Footsteps retreated behind me.

Luka reached out again.

It took me a minute to realize he wanted to help me up. I hesitated. He smiled. I smiled back timidly and took his hand, completely dazzled. Even with my uniform soaked from melted snow, I didn’t feel cold—all my attention was on him and the way his callused hand felt on mine. Without moving much from his seated position, he helped me stand.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He had a voice like a familiar lullaby. It filled my heart to the brim with comfort.

I swallowed and tried to stop gawking. “Phoenix.”

“The bird that rose from the ashes.” Luka bent his head and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

My cheeks warmed. My head reeled, not knowing what to think. I couldn’t understand why I felt drawn to him. And the strange connection frightened me.

From behind, someone gripped my arms and yanked me away before I could sort out the feelings Luka inspired in me. I found myself behind a towering figure yet again. Recognizing the blue-black silk for hair tied at the nape, relief washed over me. Calixta hadn’t come back to finish me off.

Demitri’s large hand wrapped around my wrist. Unlike the night before, no calm existed in his demeanor. He trembled like a junky in need of a fix. The coiled power in his tense muscles vibrated into me.

“What are you doing here?” Demitri asked.

I didn’t know he’d spoken to me until I saw his expressionless profile. I sighed.

“Phoenix.”

I flinched. The ruthless way he said my name punched all the air out of me. “You owe me answers,” I said with as much bravado as I could muster.

“I owe you nothing.” He glared. “In fact, you owe me your life.”

“I don’t think so.”

Ignoring my indignation, he faced Luka, who’d remained seated on the bench during my exchange with Demitri. “Why is she with you, Luka?”

“I wasn’t going to taste her, if that’s what you’re implying,” Luka said. “Although, she is simply delicious. I wouldn’t mind if you left us alone.”

There it was again. Taste. The word that kept coming up between these Night Students and I was connected to it in an increasingly uncomfortable way. To taste meant to sample, but what? My flesh? They had to be joking because the alternative wasn’t funny.

“The sins of the father …” Demitri left his sentence unfinished.

Luka’s smile shifted into a snarl. “Obey my command.” His chin lifted. “Kneel.”

Demitri’s stance went rigid. His grip tightened around my wrist.

Okay, weird just got weirder. Why would Luka want Demitri to kneel before him? I thought back to Eli and the others bowing to Demitri when he questioned them, but they didn’t kneel. Seriously? Were they all living on a different planet or something?

“Kneel.” Luka’s detestable smirk made his features sinister rather than angelic. The real Lucifer: a fallen angel.

Without letting go of my wrist, Demitri knelt down on one knee and bowed his head, his free hand flat at the center of his chest. “Your command has been obeyed,” he said formally.

Luka nodded once.

Demitri stood up and pulled me toward the school without telling me where we were going. Not having the time to thank Luka for saving me from Calixta, I risked a glance back. Luka smiled at me. His smile spoke of whispers, secrets, and promises to be shared on a later date.

Taste Blurb:

At Barinkoff Academy, there’s only one rule: no students on campus after curfew. Phoenix McKay soon finds out why when she is left behind at sunset. A group calling themselves night students threaten to taste her flesh until she is saved by a mysterious, alluring boy. With his pale skin, dark eyes, and mesmerizing voice, Demitri is both irresistible and impenetrable. He warns her to stay away from his dangerous world of flesh eaters. Unfortunately, the gorgeous and playful Luka has other plans.

When Phoenix is caught between her physical and her emotional attraction, she becomes the keeper of a deadly secret that will rock the foundations of an ancient civilization living beneath Barinkoff Academy. Phoenix doesn’t realize until it is too late that the closer she gets to both Demitri and Luka the more she is plunging them all into a centuries old feud.

Author Bio:

When Kate Evangelista was told she had a knack for writing stories, she did the next best thing: entered medical school. After realizing she wasn’t going to be the next Doogie Howser, M.D., Kate wandered into the Literature department of her university and never looked back. Today, she is in possession of a piece of paper that says to the world she owns a Literature degree. To make matters worse, she took Master’s courses in creative writing. In the end, she realized to be a writer, none of what she had mattered. What really mattered? Writing. Plain and simple, honest to God, sitting in front of her computer, writing. Today, she has four completed Young Adult novels.

Author Website: www.kateevangelista.com

Twitter: @KateEvangelista

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kate-Evangelista/165693410143202

Find Taste on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13484226-taste

Crescent Moon Press page for Taste: http://crescentmoonpress.com/books/Taste.html