I mentioned Part 3 of Tricia Goyer's interview. Consider that something for future reading plasure. I oopsed (new verb - might want to take notice - feel free to use it). This is part 2 of Tricia's interview.
Her answers are bold and my questions are the usual.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
I would LOVE to write the screenplays for my WWII historical novels! always seem them as movies in my head. I've even picked out the characters ... From Dust and Ashes would have Elizabeth Shue, Penelope Cruz, Damian Lewis, and Val Kilmar. (Yes, I have thought of this!)
What makes you feel alive?
Finishing ... finishing a book I'm writing, finishing making dinner for my family, finishing house cleaning, finishing my morning Bible reading and feeling refreshed!
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
Good question. I suppose it would be "seeing." I see a problem, or see a group of people that need encouragement, and I want to write about it. I see hurting people and I want to help. I see my kids and husband and I want to love. I see a story in my mind . . . and before I know it, it's in my heart and I have to get it out.
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
I love when people tell me they can't put my book down. It's then I know I've met a need.
What criticism has cut the deepest and why?
Any bad review. It can make me forget the last 100 compliments. It also makes me wonder why I "put myself out there" like that. Yet I can't stop writing!
Story starters: Pick one and shoot us a couple of sentences or paragraphs.
Frizzy hair, purple scarf and a book – make a character.
Chloe Pierson tucked her hair tight under her scarf and hoped the bookstore owner didn't recognize her. It was a bad hair day, to say the least. In fact the dry, mountain air always made her hair frizz. Still, that didn't hinder her enthusiasm as she strolled over to the bookshelf that display the New York Times list. Her book had made the list, but was strangely empty from the shelf. Not that she blamed them.
From the time she was fourteen and had moved to his small, Nevada town she had visited this bookstore every Saturday and dreamed of her own book finding its place here. Yet, she had never dreamed as big as to imagine it on this self. And she never understood that by telling this story that she'd not only be the town's most hated citizen, but also on the run for her life.
Thanks, Tricia. Happy weekend, everyone. And if you are in the blizzard zone keep cozy.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.