Twice Upon a Time Blog Tour: Interview with Rose Blackthorn

CONTRARY to the title of this anthology, working with such a talented cast of writers is an opportunity that usually comes once in a lifetime. From best-selling to greenhorn, independent or traditionally-published, the authors in this anthology span all ranges in addition to spanning the globe—from England to Australia and all over the United States. I've had the privilege of getting to know each and every one of them, and they have become a part of my extended family. I've even caught a glimpse of a secret side of them that only another writer...editor...is privy to witness through their words.

Through this series of posts, I plan on introducing you to my new family through a mini-interview of each. You may not get a chance to see their secret side, but you'll get a sneak-peek into their minds, their passions and inspirations, and what made them the writers they are today.

..The Mini Interview..

1. At what age did you start writing?

I began "telling" myself stories at 12 or 13. When I was a few years older, maybe 16 it occurred to me that if I wrote them down, then I would be able to go back and re-read them later.

2. Which book introduced you to Speculative Fiction?

Firestarter by Stephen King

3. Do you have an all-time favorite book? What about it makes it your favorite?

I have favorites in several genres, so I don't know that I'd be able to chose just one. The one that I've probably gone back and re-read the most times is The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A. McKillip. (And it makes me cry, every single time.)

4. Which author and/or book inspired you to start writing?

No specific author or book. I have read things that were so wonderful, they made me aspire to write something that would have that kind of impact on someone else. I have also read things that were so bad, I felt there was no reason I couldn't do better :)

5. What would you say is the most important lesson all writers should learn?

Be true to yourself. You can take classes, listen to and apply advice from others, outline every bit of your story or go from the seat of your pants - but regardless, don't lose your own voice. No one can write what you can.

6. Of the entire publishing process, which would you say is the most difficult aspect to endure?

Probably rejection. It is difficult to spend long hours writing something, putting a part of yourself in it, and sending it out to another person only to have them say they don't want it, don't like it, etc. Publishing is a business, and tastes are subjective—but it still stings to get that rejection.

7. From where did the inspiration for your submission arise?

My story is based on The Selkie Bride. I have always been fascinated by stories of shape-changers from the sea who could live among people and then return to the ocean. There is a bittersweet condition in so many of those old legends that the selkie is held in human form against their will because their seal-skin has been stolen from them. Inevitably, when the seal-skin is recovered, the selkie will return to the ocean, even if there is true love between she and her human mate.
I also have a passion for post-apocalyptic fiction, and I was curious to explore what might happen to a diminishing population of selkies after human beings have poisoned the world in some great final war.

8. If applicable, did you have a favorite character (to write) from your story? If so, what sets them apart from the others?

Naia is the main character of my story, and definitely my favorite. I enjoyed exploring what's left of the human world through her eyes, and the fact that although she has come out of the sea for a specific purpose, she could still come to love the people she meets.

9. On what projects are you currently working?

I have a novella (another post-apocalyptic piece, sort of) that I've been working on over the last few months between other projects. Also, the first of a trilogy of "epic" fantasy novels which includes shapeshifters, war against an evil that is apparently unkillable, and the unexpected relationships that can thrive between people who are so disparate. Between all that is the real life stuff, that so often takes precedence—even when I'd rather be writing :)

Read Rose's story, Before the First Day of Winter, in your very own copy of Twice Upon A Time today!

Choose a format... Amazon|Kindle Amazon|Paperback

..About the Author..

ROSE BLACKTHORN lives in the high mountain desert of Eastern Utah with her boyfriend and two dogs, Boo and Shadow. She spends her time writing, reading, being crafty, and photographing the surrounding wilderness. An only child, she was lucky to have a mother who loved books, and has been surrounded by them her entire life. Thus instead of squabbling with siblings, she learned to be friends with her imagination and the voices in her head are still very much present.

She is a member of the HWA and has been published online and in print with Necon E-Books, Stupefying Stories, Buzzy Mag, Interstellar Fiction, SpeckLit, Jamais Vu, and the anthologies The Ghost IS the Machine, A Quick Bite of Flesh, Fear the Abyss, The Best of the Horror Society 2013, Enter at Your Own Risk: The End is the Beginning, FEAR: Of the Dark, and Equilibrium Overturned, among others.

..Connect with the Author..

Twice Upon A Time: Release Blast!

Choose Format Amazon|Kindle Amazon|Paperback

Blurb:

Fairytales don’t always happen once upon a time. Fables don’t always have a happy ending. Sometimes the stories we love are too dark for nightmares. What if waking Sleeping Beauty was the worse thing the Prince could have done? What if Rapunzel wasn't in that tower for her own protection—but for everyone else’s?

Assembled by The Bearded Scribe Press, Twice Upon A Time combines classics and modern lore in peculiar and spectacular ways. From Rapunzel to Rumpelstiltskin, this unique collection showcases childhood favorites unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

Both traditionally-published and independent authors will take you on a whirlwind ride through fairytale and folklore, myth and majick. Cherished stories are revisited and remastered into newly-treasured tales of hope and heartache, of adversity and adventure.

This collection features 43 short stories ranging in length from 2K-12K words from the following cast of talented writers:

Bo Balder, AJ Bauers, Carina Bissett, Rose Blackthorn, S.M. Blooding, Rick Chiantaretto, Richard Chizmar, Liz DeJesus, Court Ellyn, S.Q. Eries, Steven Anthony George, Dale W. Glaser, Jax Goss, K.R. Green, Kelly Hale, Tonia Marie Harris, Brian T. Hodges, Tarran Jones, Jason Kimble, Shari L. Klase, Alethea Kontis, Hannah Lesniak, Wayne Ligon, RS McCoy, Joshua Allen Mercier, Robert D. Moores, Diana Murdock, Nick Nafpliotis, Elizabeth J. Norton, Bobbie Palmer, William Petersen, Rebekah Phillips, Asa Powers, Joe Powers, Brian Rathbone, Julianne Snow, Tracy Arthur Soldan, C.L. Stegall, Brian W. Taylor, Kenechi Udogu, Onser von Fullon, Deborah Walker, Angela Wallace, and Cynthia Ward.

Edited by Joshua Allen Mercier. Cover art by Luke Spooner.

---

Excerpt from Fire & Ash by Joshua Allen Mercier, a dark fantasy retelling of Little Red Riding Hood:

THE cold, autumn gusts ripped across Salem’s port, stirring the angry waters, stirring the angry spectators gathered before the gallows—gallows which had not, until this day, been used since the Trials several years back. Men, women, children—all bore hateful eyes and twisted faces. All bore a deep-seeded fear of the woman before them; they watched and seethed, anger building like fire fed by the winds, waiting for answers, for closure, for justice—for the devil’s death.

Constance Archer stared at the sea of faces; she despised all of them, save two—two faces that weren’t supposed to be there. Her daughters, Rhiannon and Rowan, hid in the small grove of trees, but she could still see their watery, green eyes piercing through the shadows, their stares stabbing their fear and pain and confusion into her. They weren’t supposed to see her like this. With the gag still tightly secured about her mouth, however, her muffled pleas for them to leave went unheard.

Where was their grandmother?

Constance’s fiery locks were drenched with tears. Her heart ached. For them, for herself, for her husband, Jacob. She shouldn’t have let the rage overtake her; she knew that now, now that it was too late.

“For the crimes of witchcraft, how do you plea?”

Even though the thick rope around her neck made it difficult to escape it—to forget—the reverend’s voice jolted her back to reality.

“Not guilty,” Constance replied through the gag, unsure if her plea was understood.

“Executioner, please remove the gag from the accused.”

The reverend’s statement was cold. They had known each other since they were children, but he was but a stranger now as he stood before her. He was once so compassionate, so caring—what had changed?

The executioner approached Constance with apprehension; she soon understood why. Despite the black hood covering his face, his scent—sweet, woody, musky, like freshly-sawn wood mixed with perfume and sweat—immediately revealed his identity: William Black. He removed the gag with haste and stepped across the gallows with a speed she hadn’t witnessed him have in years.

How fitting that the town adulterer would be the one to hang her. She wondered who the woman had been, the one whose scent lingered on his clothing and skin. Surely it wasn’t his wife, Catherine.

It couldn’t be.

She had killed her, in a way, the memory of the act flooding back to her nearly causing her to faint. Seems Catherine and her husband didn’t understand the meaning of marriage; then again, neither did Jacob (apparently). Catching him with Catherine was the most heart-breaking of all.

Wyatt Thatcher cleared his throat. “Mrs. Archer—your plea, now that we can hear you.”

Constance stared at her old friend, pain and tears welling in her eyes. “Not guilty.”

“If not for witchcraft, how do account for the brutal way you murdered Catherine Black? Surely, you were possessed,” countered Reverend Thatcher.

“I didn’t murder Catherine Black. As I told you all before, she was attacked by a beast.” She wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t telling the whole truth. The truth wouldn’t save her, and she couldn’t have her daughters hearing it. They weren’t supposed to be here, but calling attention to them now would only make matters worse.

“You’re the beast!” a woman’s voice sounded from the throng.

“Witch!” said another, followed by her husband’s jibe, “You’re Satan’s whore!”

Reverend Thatcher held his hand to the crowd; without a word, they fell silent. It wasn’t their first execution; it probably wouldn’t be their last. His attention turned to the defendant, but his eyes remained downcast, staring at the rough wood of the gallows as if it were the most interesting sight he had ever beheld.

Constance knew why Wyatt Thatcher wouldn’t look at her, knew he couldn’t show a hint of weakness or compassion for her lest he be hanged, too, for sympathizing with the Devil. Satan was in Salem Village that day—no doubt about that. But it wasn’t Constance or Reverend Thatcher. The Devil stood in the crowd, reflected in the eyes of every spectator. His hunger bellowed in their calls, their taunts, their glares, and it wouldn’t be satisfied until her limp, lifeless body waved in the autumn winds like a banner for their tainted justice, a flag of their blood-stained victory over evil.

Wyatt’s hardness broke, even if for just a second, Constance the only witness to the silent tear soaking its fleshy path across his regretful face. “And please explain to us why you were covered in her blood.”

“I’ve told you all this before, Wyatt...” Using the reverend’s first name stirred a wave of gasps from the crowd, forcing her to pause. “I carried Catherine into my house to try to stop her bleeding, to prevent her death.”

That was a lie; it was what she wanted everyone to believe, but it had been all for naught. It had only sealed her fate.

“And what of your husband’s disappearance?” An icy gust of wind blew through Constance’s locks of red hair; with it, Thatcher’s own coldness returned. “Did you use witchcraft to dispose of his body?”

“My husband was attacked, too, his body dragged into the orchard by the beast.”

That was a lie, too. She couldn’t tell them the truth—that she had, in a fit of rage after seeing Jacob and Catherine naked in the orchard, cursed her husband’s appetite for flesh. The curse had gone horribly wrong...

Praise:

"Brilliant change-up on the new flood of "Fairy Tale Twists". If you're looking for something that can suck you in right away, this book is definitely it. The collection of short stories makes sure you never get bored with the story or writing style." ~Jett Murdock / Amazon review

About the Publisher:

The Bearded Scribe Press, LLC is an independent publisher of quality Speculative Fiction. They aim to become a platform for emerging writers to get discovered by the mainstream and inversely, through becoming a staple in the literary community, becoming the source for readers to discover emerging talent in the Speculative Fiction realm.


Watch the [Extended] Book Trailer:

Twice Upon a Time: Released! (it's for real this time)

It's HERE!!! Really! Like for REAL this time! Twice Upon a Time celebrates it's official launch this weekend!

Your favorite fairytales are retold and remastered in this short story collection. And don't get me wrong. This thing is huge. 728 pages worth of fun stories to re-explore. Dozens of up-and-coming authors poured their hearts into these stories, and our editor Joshua Allen Mercier shed much blood, sweat, and tears to turn our bunch of stories into a gorgeous, professional-quality book. I mean, look at that stellar cover:

cover art by Luke Spooner

I cannot wait to receive my contributor's copy and see what the other stories are like. The reviews posted on Amazon so far are promising.

The print copy is available HERE.
The Kindle download is HERE.

For more information, check out Bearded Scribe Press or Facebook!

First Friday Writing Prompt: Night Train

February's Prompt

Romania. In a train. Henri Cartier-Bresson, 1975

(If you find inspiration and wish to share your creation with me, please do the following:
* DO paste a link to your creation as a comment to the prompt you’ve used.
* DO include a link back to my blog, Wordweaver.
* DO NOT copy anyone else’s work and publicize it as your own.

Prompt History
January's Prompt

Twitter Blues

Feeling: disgruntled.

Word of the day: Solicit

\sə-ˈli-sət\
1. to ask for (something, such as money or help) from people, companies, etc.
2. to ask (a person or group) for money, help, etc.
3. to offer to have sex with (someone) in return for money

The Rant: So I decided to make an effort by actually tweeting more regularly. Not ads and self-promos, but more personal stuff. Stuff that proves I'm a person and not an automated marketing machine.

While embarking on that journey, I decided to visit my "followers" page and return the favor by following many of them back. A couple hours later, I check my email inbox and what do I see? Several new direct messages from other Tweeters. Cool, I think, people want to engage. *glower* Yeah. Right. Every single one of the messages were solicitations to join a website or a sells pitch for someone's brilliant book.

So I'm disgruntled because it seems that "follow" is a synonym for "solicit." Join me, buy me, promote me. You followed me, you must want me and my product. Here, have some. *open mouth, insert spoon* Ugh.

I have a paper hidden away with all my website log-in info on it (really, really hidden away). There are 68 lines of accounts. Just me, one human being with 68+ usernames/passwords/etc (and I'm sure in some people's books, that's relatively few, which only strengthens my argument). I'm not interested in adding to that list. More than likely I will decline any invitations to join more websites sent by tweet. And I have review policies, posted right here on my blog, so I will certainly decline any invitations to review someone's book sent by tweet.

It was all so impersonal and ... gross-feeling. Does any tweeter care about other tweeters as people? Or are all other tweeters means to an end? Why am I tweeting, for that matter? To gain an audience. There, I admitted it. It certainly isn't because I have nothing better to do with my time. No, it's to persuade one or two readers to take a chance on my books. One or two, out of the hundreds of followers (one day I hope to say "thousands"). The last thing I will do to them is shove solicitations down their throats the instant they click "follow." Does this make me 'better'? Certainly not. But I'll draw the line somewhere, thanks.

*parting shudder*

Swagger

My custom swag for TUAT is in! Woot!

I shall be a walking advertisement for Twice Upon A Time. This particular t-shirt was printed at CafePress. Ugh, custom shirts are x-pen-sive. But! The point is to take pride in the book and show it off in blatant fashion to everyone I know -- and don't know, for that matter. It might spark curiosity or start a conversation or two. Who knows?

Anyway, take a gander:

Incidentally, a review of CafePress shirt product:

The material is very thick, probably very durable. The black dye, to my eye, looks like the kind that will fade rather quickly. The print of the book cover is solid. I mean, solid. I don't know how else to describe it. Like, it feels like a sheet of plastic but not shiny, so I expect it to be very durable as well. My only complaint, is that the print on the back cannot go higher near the shoulders than as pictured. The book cover fills all available vertical space. Ideally, prints on the backs of shirts are at least three inches higher than CafePress allows. If I were a nerd and decided to tuck in my shirttails, the image would be right at my pants-line, ready to dive out of sight.

Still, I'm excited to start wearing this puppy. Now, to the wash...

First Friday Writing Prompt: "Happy Place"

Disclaimer: this is not a meme!

I’ve been feeling terribly bogged down and uncreative lately, as in, for the past year and a half. Once upon a time I made an effort to paint with pastels and acrylics, sketch my characters (very badly, I’ll admit), dabble in photography, throw a pot on the wheel, MAKE STUFF!!! But for too long now, I have been so focused on finishing the Falcons Saga that, ironically, my creativity has dwindled.

That’s my preamble for starting a monthly writing prompt (to be posted on the first Friday of every month), both for myself and for any visitors who might like to participate. I missed January's first Friday, so I'll get a (very) late start and get back on schedule in February.

My favorite sources of inspiration are photographs or digital art that hint at stories, but I'll look for other prompts to inspire as well. In the comments below the prompt, I’ll post an excerpt of what the image(s) inspired inside my twisted brain. Hopefully, these excerpts will grow into full-length stories (or poems!), but we’ll see. The point is to have fun creating something new while I rework these old novels.

Okay, then, let’s create something…

"Happy Place" by Schnotte

(If you find inspiration and wish to share your creation with me, please do the following:
* DO paste a link to your creation as a comment to the prompt you’ve used.
* DO include a link back to my blog, Wordweaver.
* DO NOT copy anyone else’s work and publicize it as your own.