Sunday, September 21, 2014

An Interview with Author, D.L. Carter!

Where are you from?

My mother and father. Isn't that kind of a personal question? Actually I am from The Land Down Under which explains my height and generally dizzy constitution – all the blood to the head , you see.
Why do you write?
Because the voices in my head are real nags about getting their stories out there.
What inspired you to write your first book?
Frustration. Apparently when I was very, very young I asked my mother what came next when I'd finished reading a book. She told me the book was over so there was nothing more. I proceeded to tell her the further adventures of the characters. Later, she told me, she would see me walking around in the back yard, waving my hands in the air, and telling stories. Nothing has changed, apparently.
What genre do you typically write?
Romance – in the sub-genres of Paranormal, Regency and Space Opera.
Do you feel like you have a specific writing style?
I aim to be funny. It takes more words to tell a joke but I think it worth it to make people laugh, take another look and say, hmmm, actually the writer has a point.  My heroes are George Carlin and Bob Newhart.
How long does it usually take you to write a book?
My very first beginning to end novel took six years. The next book took one year. The last book I wrote took nine weeks. I aim for four books a year.
Reading, however, is three books per day.
What do you do to conquer writer’s block?
What is this creature, writer's block? I have not seen his spot, nor his tread upon the ground. Actually, I have a policy of not stopping writing. If I have trouble with a scene I skip over to another scene that I can see in the distance. Later I realize that the reason I was having trouble writing something was that it either did not belong or was lying cross-ways to the development of the story and I needed to come at it knowing what came next. Easy, right???
What can you tell us about your favorite character from your book?
The expository charter in Crimes of the Brothers is Kate – personal maid and friend to the heroine. It helps to know your primary expository character well. In the old western's they are the jokers and help to make the hero look good. In this book Kate is sensible, practical and a budding heroine in her own right. I know this because I am already being nagged by readers for more about Kate.
What actor or actress would you like to see play your character in the movie adaptation
Sorry. What is a movie?
Who is your favorite author and what is it about them that inspires you?
Dr  Seuss. (Theodor Seuss Geisel )  I love his use of words, rhythm and language. (and art) he had fun with his stories with his rhymes, with his characters. I didn't read his work until I graduated from college then I read all of it. My ambition is to one day own an autographed copy of “I had trouble going to Solla Sellew” which really describes my wish for life -To overcome what holds me back. 
What book are you reading now?

Finished. Read another while I thought about this answer. Finished.  The Miss Fisher series. By Terry Greenwood. A series set in flapper ear Melbourne Australia. I am enjoying visiting my country's past. 
What are your current projects?

That would depend on whether you ask my publisher or me. My publisher is waiting for the third book of my “Changing Magic” series. The third book in my “Ridiculous” series and the next in the “World Wide Witches Research Association and Pinochle club” series. What she does not realize – evil laughter – is that I am plotting out another regency book AND have gone back to a Space Opera I wrote some time ago that combines the best part of Machiavelli’s The Prince and the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. You may assume from the above that my mind jumps about. 
If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

I would have traveled to Winder mere for a holiday before writing it instead of after.
Can you share a little of your work with us?

Catherine Walman discovered of the many horrible things one could experience in this world, traveling in a crowded coach behind tired horses on a rainy day was if not the worst, then it was at least the second. If the Vicar preached that hell was a rainy day where one was unable to escape one’s family there’d be considerably less sin Catherine was convinced. The four day journey home from Lake Windermere was one of unending agony. From the moment they had entered the carriage her mother had complained of mal de mer and a headache that persisted no matter what change they had made within the carriage. With the windows and blinds open she complained that the air was hot, or wet, or odorous. With them closed, the interior of the coach was putrid. Her father spent most of the time warning the other occupants not to jostle any of the five boxes containing bird’s eggs he’d gathered during his holiday. Since they were placed on the floor where a reasonable person would expect to put their feet, this was a source of considerable discomfort for everyone. And finally, her brother, who’d somehow found a group willing to include him, had joined in a card game the night before their departure from the Lake District and almost had won a horse. Or so he kept insisting. Days later he would not stop complaining about his loss.
“Fine form, beautiful paces, and did I tell you that they told me his owner charged a hundred guineas for him to stand at stud.” 
“Strange, I thought you said ten guineas yesterday,” murmured Catherine, not even turning her face away from the carriage wall. 
James glared at her and raised his voice. “And I almost won him. One card. One turn of the card and he would’ve been mine. You’d have more room in here if I were able to ride my own horse.” 
“It’s raining,” said Catherine. “You wouldn’t be riding in this weather.” 
“That is not the point. The point is that if you’d given me the money I asked for. Money I’m entitled to. Money you deceived me about, money you denied having. If you’d’ve given it to me then I’d have increased it and I’d have a valuable horse to show for it.” 
Catherine turned away from the scrap of fresh air that filtered in through a crack in the window frame and faced her brother. 
“Again, I tell you, sir, my information regarding your game was that you had lost every single game that night. That the horse was placed in the pot against all of our horses, since you’d already lost every penny you’d stolen from me. That you hadn’t even taken the time to go down to the stable and examine this paragon amongst all horses. I was told all this when you dragged me out of my bed when you were drunk and raving at two in the morning. And the winning of this wonderful horse rested not on the  of one card as you say but on the play of an entirely new hand. Based on your history of losing I am well within my responsibilities to act to prevent you from losing horses that do not in fact belong to you but were borrowed from the home farm. When, and not if, you lost them we would have been left to walk home.” 
“The horses belong to us. To me. We own the damned home farm.”
“And they need the horses or they will have trouble working the farm. You will not get your quarterly allowance if goods are not taken to market, if the fields are not plowed, you selfish child.”
“Damn it to hell,” cried James. “You should have given me the money.” 
“Please, children,” said their mother lifting her hartshorn to her nose again. “Do not shout.” 
“Damn it, Mother, it’s not fair,” protested James. “How can I appear a proper gentleman without my own cattle? If Catherine had but given me the money when I asked for it, I’d have a horse, one that I could use to increase my own income, but no, she …” 
Catherine turned back to the window and closed her eyes. Soon they would be home. Once there she’d lock herself in her room and not come out for a week.
Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

In the dedication of another of my books I acknowledge the assistance of my English teacher, the late Mrs. Fuller, for her help in getting  a kid with learning disabilities out of special ed. Fact is, I have trouble with the word putting in order, concentration, spelling and grammar thing. Fortunately for me I now have a devoted and wonderfully helpful team of beta readers who clean up the mess before the book goes to publisher. ::wave:::
Do you have any advice for other writers?

Writer's write. Writers also read, play, have family and run about. Occasionally I will get asked why I am not writing when I am painting or playing cards or watching TV or reading. The answer, my children, is thus – I am always writing. Right now I am “taking in” what will soon be flowing out into another story.

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

Great English Writer – Douglas Adams said it best.  In the fifth book of his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy he had his characters go on a quest to visit God's last message to his creation. After many adventures they came to a high plain and in the distance were the words - “I apologize for the inconvenience!” 

Author Bio:

D.L. Carter was decanted from her incubation pod in the outback of Australia many decades ago. This terrifying event was closely followed by shrieks of "there, there it goes. Hit it with a brick!"
These valiant attempts to correct the existence of D.L. were, unfortunately, unsuccessful and she now resides in New Jersey, US., in a box with her toys, two human beings and three cats.

Connect with D.L. Carter Today!

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