Interview with a Reluctant Celebrity

Hi everyone. Welcome back.

Today we’re going to have a little fun and interview the main character in my novel, The Terrible Strange.

This idea came from multiple “What do I write about in my blog when I write fiction, but I haven’t been published yet?” websites. At first I thought this was kind of dumb, but now I realize that it could be lots of fun. Plus, potential readers will get to know my characters better.

So here goes … Oh, and the interviewer is one of those “young and hip” entertainment journalists. Let’s call her Micki.

Micki: Today we’re talking with Jacob Grey, the protagonist of the bestselling novel, The Terrible Strange. Jake, how would you describe yourself? What do you look like?

Jake: What the fuck are you talking about? I’m standing right here, you tell me what I look like.

Micki: Uh, okay. Well, you’re good-looking, obviously, and wearing jeans, ripped jeans, and er, a nice, white tee shirt … and your hair is dark, and a little shaggy … and you’re carrying a green Jansport backpack.

Jake: Exactly.

Micki: So does the backpack mean you’re a student, Jake?

Jake: Why are you asking all these stupid, fucking questions? Of course I’m a student. I’m in grad school at UPenn. Is there a problem?

Micki:  Oh, no. No. Nothing like that. It’s just that … well, you don’t exactly strike me as the Ivy League type.

Jake: Wait, so, you ask me here to interview me for some stupid online magazine, but all you want to do is stereotype me? Are you trying to say I don’t look smart enough to go to Penn?

Micki: No! Of course not. I apologize. Really, Jake. I’m so sorry. Uh, can we please move on? I have to finish these questions. Please?

Jake: Fine. Go ahead. Ask your damn questions.

Micki: Can you name one thing you did as a kid that you’re most proud of today?

Jake: That’s easy. By the time I was five years old I knew how to pour a beer with the absolute minimum amount of foam on top.

Micki: Er, okay. That’s wonderful. And how about the most embarrassing thing?

Jake: Are you kidding me? I’m not going to tell you that. I hardly fucking know you.

Micki: Uh, okay. How about this – Did you have a best friend when you were a child, and if so, what were they like?

Jake: My best friend is Maya Davenport. She’s fucking brilliant. She’s a grad student in physics, also at Penn. Her dad works for SEPTA, and her Nana is awesome. We’ve known each other, like, forever.

Micki: That’s wonderful, Jake. It sounds like you two are still friends, is that correct?

Jake: Jesus. Yes, we’re still friends. I would have thought it was obvious from my use of the present tense when talking about her. How did you even get this fucking job? What are they paying you, because it’s obviously too much.

Micki: This is actually an internship, so I’m not getting paid.

Jake: Wow. It sucks to be you. How many more of these stupid questions are there?

Micki: There are 30 altogether.

Jake: Fuck.

Well, there you have it.

Jake is definitely one of those people who are fierce and prickly on the outside, but once you get to know him he’s all soft and squishy on the inside.

Have you ever interviewed one of your characters? I’d love to hear about it!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Let me know if you want Jake to answer any more questions.

Everybody’s Got Pain

As I’m writing this blog post, the anesthesia from my root canal is wearing off. Needless to say, I’m in pain. A lot of pain.

This made me think about how we deal with pain.

Sometimes, if it’s bad enough, we just curl up under the covers and will ourselves to sleep until it’s over. However, too many people never have the luxury of allowing their pain to crash over them and carry them out to sea. These people – and they are usually poor people – are told to just “push through it” and “you can’t stay home with every little ache and pain.”

The implication being that if you give into pain you are weak, you are unworthy, and you are definitely not getting paid for today if you do.

Consequently, that’s how I knew now was a perfect time to get this post written. And so here we are.

Is this a sign of dedication to my craft, my blog? Of strength of character? Or of brainwashing and stupidity?

Hard to say.

So instead of whining about my own pitiful problems today I thought I’d tell you a little bit about my main character, Jake’s, tattoos.

Jake has a large slamming door tattooed on his back. It’s there so he won’t forget the night his father left forever, his mother screaming “Good riddance” at the empty air.

There’s an old coffee pot covered with spider webs on his left shoulder. It’s to remind himself of all the times five year old Jake got up at 2:30 am just to make his dad a cup of coffee when he returned from the bar.

The yellow license plate, dinged and bent at one corner, that sits below his rib cage belongs to the car that killed his mother as she was crossing Roosevelt Boulevard when he was six.

Yeah, everybody’s got pain.

How do you deal with your own pain? Do you dive in, or try to ride it out? Also, what kind of pain have you dished out to your characters? And how do they deal with it?

I’d love to hear about it in the Comments section.

Thanks for reading.

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