Short Story: The Interview

Sometimes life takes you in places you don’t want to be and when you think you’re done it spits you out to where you’ve always wanted to be. Maybe.

When you drive through Marin County you can’t help but think it is a beautiful place, especially this time of year when everything is green. Then you hit the tunnel toward San Francisco and find yourself almost breathless crossing the most beautiful bridge in the world.

I was on the Golden Gate Bridge, both excited and a little queasy thinking about what was to come last Friday morning. I had an interview for a job.

About a month ago, after fifteen years at my job, after almost thirty years of no unemployment, I was laid off from my job. It was called a firing but that is what it felt like. There were ten other as well – all good people – all loyal workers. I left without tears or harsh words. There was nothing I could do about it. For the first forty eight hours I thought I could take on the world. Then I found all of the creative cells in my brain drying up. I lost confidence as I thought about all of the times I’d been slapped down for trying to be creative and innovative. One can get bitter being an art director in a position full of people who exude negativity out of each and every cell of their bodies. You learn not to care when everyone has an uneducated opinion about your work and about you. I got tired of all of the unkept promises and carrots held out to me to follow like the stupid ass I was. But, that was behind me. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

Every job posting I saw was painful to read. I didn’t want to do that anymore. I tried to get my brain around it all. I couldn’t get my brain or my heart around anything. I was the woman who had it all, career, family, marriage, and that other life that was my creative soul. I had my wonderful family and my wonderful marriage. I was struggling to bring out my creative soul which had become timid. I hadn’t lived up to my potential and I knew it more than anyone. That was painful – even physically painful.

Over the past month I spent a lot of time at the gym and bird watching to get my mind clear. I spent more time with the dog than I ever had. The world was wide open and I froze.

The fog was lifting over the bridge and the sun started to come through. There is nothing more beautiful than a sunny day in San Francisco. Now my only thoughts were on the voice on the GPS telling me where to go. I’d switched it to the British man, who isn’t as bitchy and rude sounding as the American woman GPS voice.

Turn left in two miles miles…

On Wednesday as I was planting a nectarine tree in my front yard (for no reason other than something to do) my phone rang. I put down the pick ax and grabbed the phone with a dirty hand. I didn’t recognize the number or the area code but I answered it anyway.

The voice on the other end was a happy male voice, like a radio announcer or trained stage actor. He introduced himself then said, “A friend of a friend of a friend gave me your number. He said you’re a talented designer. He said you could draw with pencil and ink. He showed me your work. I might have a job for you.”

I wondered how he had seen my work or what it was. It had been years since I’d done the type of illustrations he’d spoken of. None were done for my regular employers. All were in private collections. He said I could work from my home and come into San Francisco once or twice a month. We could trade ideas over the phone and I could send him pdf file. He was working on a series of books and posters about opera and art and history. Could I see him.

Of course I was excited. Then it seemed odd with all of the young talent near him that he’d call on an unknown middle-aged women who lived a hundred miles away. He didn’t give me many details and I didn’t ask. I should have, but I didn’t.

I parked in front of a beautiful home in a residential neighborhood. It wasn’t one of the famous Victorians, but a large home built in the 1930’s. I checked my make-up in the mirror and noticed how old I looked. Before I’d left home my wearing a gray skirt and matching cashmere sweater set with well-chosen vintage jewelry and black heels. I looked good with a little bit of edge. Now I wondered if I’d worn the right thing. I had peep toes pumps. Should I have worn closed toed shoes? Should I have worn a suit? I didn’t realize this would be at a private home – so had I over dressed?

A large lilac point Siamese cat trotted up to the front door to greet me. He immediately started to talk, the was Siamese cats do. I reached down to scratch his ears, something he seemed to greatly appreciate. Just as I was about the ring the doorbell, the door opened.

“I seem James has come to greet you. He lives next door.” James the cat ran inside. “Come in, please, come in.”

A cool hand took mine and led me through the threshold. Before me was a man who could have been in his late twenties or in his forties. I couldn’t tell. The first thing I noticed was that same mesmerizing voice, then it was the hair and eyes. The hazel eyes and chestnut colored hair was the exact same as mine. Even his hair was like mine, almost at least. He wore it just above his shoulders, with a slight wave. I was sure his color was real. My hair color, was once like his but now it came out of a bottle. In fact I’d colored it again the day I first talked to him so there would be no gray roots.

We passed through a large main living room with a grand piano and a wall of windows overlooking a yard full of flowers. Everything about the house was calm and elegant, mixing modern and old elements in a way I hadn’t quite managed at my old house (I’m working on it.) We settled into an office with the same calm feeling and sense of beauty and refinement.

He wore black slacks, a white shirt and a patterned vest, plus a black tie that was a little loose. We sat at a table where I spread my portfolio out.

As I spoke he asked a few questions, more about my philosophy on art and science and the emotions that visual arts elicit. I spoke at first reserved, then with passion. I didn’t care at this point about what he thought or how corporate I sounded. He wanted to create find publications and blog about art and music. I wanted to create. I knew printing, I knew blogging, I knew passion for my work and for what he wanted to do…

Then he help up his hand, as if telling me to stop. Then he leaned forward in his chair and smiled. “I want to hire you.”

At that point I thought my heart was going to stop. I know I smiled. He produced a folder containing a contract and paperwork for benefits and taxes and all of those items one must sign when taking on a new job. My name was already on them.

“Who told you about me?” I had to ask.

He gave me a slight smile then said, “Nobody important.” Before I could say anything he took out a leather folder. “Take a look. This is the book. Everything is on a flash drive.”

As I sat looking over his manuscript and notes he left the room. I could hear piano music and his soft singing. I stopped and listened then after a few minutes went to the doorway to watch.

He looked up. “Come sit next to me.”

I thought to myself, I need to go.

My new employer motioned to me. “Come sit down. You can call your husband in a bit. He won’t mind picking up your children.”

Of course my husband wouldn’t mind picking up the kids. How did he know I had a husband or kids or was it that obvious? I sat next to him on the piano bench.

“Are you warm enough,” he asked.

“Yes.” It was cold but I was fine.

“I know this is all weird to you but this is what you’ve always wanted. Listen, I picked you because I knew you’d have both the expertise and the passion for the project. I knew I could work with you. I knew… I know you are more accepting of those who are different. By different I don’t mean like you, because you know you’re different. You are different, not just because you’re an artistic. You’ve always been different. But I’m really different.”

I didn’t even know what to say.

“I know about you,” he said.

“What do you know?” I was almost afraid for the answer.

He laughed. “It isn’t bad. Everyone says good things about you. People know who you are. And I know you want this more than anyone else I could have interviewed for the job.”

Putting his hands on the keys he started to play then said, “I’m different in ways you can’t even imagine, but in a lot of ways we’re just alike. You have darkness in your eyes.”

“My eyes are the same color as yours.”

“I mean depth.” Then he laughed.

That could have been enough to freak anyone out and make them leave, but the way he said it. Then again I wanted to spend the rest of my life working with this guy.

We went to lunch at a local vegetarian place and talked about the project and my past work for about two hours. He had he kind of depth and the kind of peace of mind that one usually doesn’t find in late GenXers and early Millennials. Actually that could include all Baby Boomers too and … just about everyone I’d ever worked with.

As we arrived back to his house smiled and said, “you seem so ageless.”

Against my better judgment I told him, “I’m old enough to be your mother.” It was just one of those silly jokes we tell ourselves when no matter how fashionable and unique and insanely talented we are – we suddenly realize that we’re no longer young or hip or valued.

“You just haven’t worked with the right people. Let me tell you a secret. I was born in 1851, not 1951 but 1851. I know what old is. It has nothing to do with age. I know that is easy for me to say, but you’re far better than you know. Far better than stupid people know. Far better than… You know, I can’t wait to work with you.”

I must have looked at him like he was crazy. I did look at him like he was crazy. Then he just smiled again and took my hands in his.

“We both have secrets. I’m a Vampire. You’re the person I want to illustrate my story. You and only you.”

“Really?” I had to ask him. “You’re a real Vampire?” You know, I thought back on my week. A thousand dollars in vet bills from both the dog and the cat, I didn’t have a job, three deaths including two that were close, and I think something is wrong with the transmission in my car. Now I have a job offer with a hefty paycheck doing what I love for someone who seemed want to hire me. “So,” I asked him, “are you going to drink my blood or anything like that?”

“Absolutely not. I need you for my books.”

I left around 10:00 that night after he’d told me his story and I’d told him mine. There were surprises for both of us. It took me about two hours to get home. There wasn’t much traffic by the time I left his big city to go to my medium-sized city.

HA! I guess this was a different kind of interview with a Vampire.

Sometimes life gets weird, but sometimes it gets wonderful. Sometimes it gets interesting. Sometimes it gets just the way it should be. I can’t believe how excited I am.

 

 

 

 

 

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Note: I know I’ve been lack on Short Story Sunday. For more (and better) stories CLICK HERE or HERE. 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Interview with Writer Juliette Kings

Vampire Maman

Vampire Maman

 

A few months back the lovely and talented blogger Raani York asked me a few questions about writing.  Thank you Raani. It is an honor to be part of your interview series.

If you’re new to Vampire Maman please take time to explore the blog and take a look at the variety of subjects.

You won’t  find much “Dracula” stuff but plenty of Modern Vampire tales along with more human touches. In fact you won’t find a single red lined opera cape here (but my brother Andy is an opera singer and a Vampire.)

Enjoy and thanks for coming by.

clara_Vdress

 

Interview with a Vampire… the truth as we choose to tell it.

I was asked to be interviewed because I’m a Vampire. For the most part nobody knows I’m a Vampire… Anyway I was asked to be interviewed for some “paranormal” publication. Yes, I was talked into this one by someone who is going to owe me big time.

So what was I going to tell them?

I could tell them I like TV.  I might watch way too much TV but when you’re up all night… Zero Below just started… it is about people who live above the Arctic Circle. It isn’t done like some fake wacked out reality show. And…well, it is a little known fact that Vampires like to watch TV. We like movies a lot too. We also of course read a lot. If you find a Vampire you’ll find a book.

Of course blood will come up. Yes, that is the one big thing that differentiates us from them. My favorite types are poet’s blood and blood from lawyers. Now if I can find a lawyer who writes poetry I’ve found a little bit of heaven. My brother Val likes Vegan blood these days, then again it might just be that hot girl and her friends he… anyway…

The subject of being “human” always comes up. I can only imagine what I’ve missed out on, but then again don’t we ALL imagine what we might have missed out on had we been born as someone else, in another time or place, to different parents or a different gender? Or maybe we don’t wonder that at all. But they always ask.

They’ll ask more questions about my “Vampire powers.” Sure, if I try I can read your mind. I can make your forget. I can seduce you without you even knowing. I can make you long for me and not know why or who or what I am. I can make you feel good or I can send you to Hell.

Don’t ask how many people I’ve turned into Vampires. That is like asking someone how many people they’ve had sex with. You just don’t ask questions like that in polite society.

They’ll ask how old I am, then they’ll stare me. They’ll stare at me anyway. They’ll peer into my face looking for something. Then they’ll ask to see my fangs. They always want to see the fangs.

And how about those souls? Ugh. No no no. I’m not telling you about my souls or what I do or don’t do with them or if I have one or not.

I am not a rouge Vampire who rips flesh and has come back to life without a soul and the personality of a rabid wolverine. I don’t have fancy parties where I kill all my guests (I don’t want that kind of mess.) I don’t walk in league with dark lords or sleep in a crypt. I don’t mess with children. I can drain your body of every drop of blood you have but I choose not to do that.

Yes, I can eat regular food, or at least some of it. Processed sugar makes me violently ill, as do most baked goods.

I use a lot of sunscreen and have prescription sunglasses.

If I choose I can tell them my story about my life in three centuries. I can tell them about how I remember when the 120 year old building I’m meeting them in was new.

Should I tell them that we’re romantics and experts at writing love letters? Should I tell them that we can turn our hearts stone cold and uncaring at will?

When they look in the mirror will they see a shadow of a Vampire who hunts them? Maybe… maybe not.

I can tell them about things that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. I can tell them things that would make them never want to sleep again. I can put the fear in them so that they will never leave their homes after dark EVER again. I can make them go insane. Or not.

They ALWAYS ask the same questions.

Half of the time (more than half) they ask “would you turn me into a Vampire?” Of course the answer is a resounding NO. Please, you don’t know anything about it. You have no idea. And that is where I roll my eyes or maybe growl.

When I arrived Cody was waiting for me at the door, my dear Cody who has been a Vampire for only 2 years now.

“So what should I tell them?” Cody asked with one of his fun boyish smiles. At 34 he is cute and smart and has taken to the Vampire life like a champ.

“Tell them you’re the bastard child of Thomas Jefferson and Martha Washington. You were then raised by an old Indian Woman and her Werewolf companion.”

“Really?”

“Sure. They’ll believe anything.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of bastard son of Louis the 14th. You know, the Sun King.”

“Good thinking and a much better story.”

“Depending on what genre you want to be in today.” Cody smiled and put his arm around my shoulders.

I do love Cody. We met the journalists in the back booth of a downtown bar. It was dark and fitting for such an interview. They seemed surprised when they saw us. We were a stylish young couple who looked as normal and innocent as anyone else in the place. We were the last two people you’d pick out as Vampires.

Then again what does a Vampire look like? What does anyone look like?

In the end Cody and I told them that we’d talk to them but we wouldn’t tell them anything. We’d just let them know that they’d met a couple of Vampires and lived to tell about it. In the end we showed them our fangs – something they’d never forget.

And eventually they’d forget most of the details. It would be frustrating but, oh well.

All in all it was fun. I know my attitude sucked at first but that is not unusual for me. I don’t want to do something – go in complaining and end up glad I went. Cody was delightful and the journalists were nice people. They really were. Sincere and curious. I like that in people. I might have cocktails with them again. I might even have a little more than cocktails.

We all have our stories both public and private. Different versions for different situations.

This story will come out and Cody and I will be described as mysterious, elusive and charming. Which is always the truth, or at least the only truth we want to tell.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

(Thanks again Cody)

gothic

Make me over (she told the Vampire) – past lives, secrets and learning from it all

v_blonde

 

Kat was lovely in that fresh healthy sort of way that can be obtained with a personal trainer, good hair stylist and tanning booth. Her pale highlighted hair was just right. The perfectly applied minimal makeup was perfect even in the heat. She had that friendly gentle demeanor that made you just want to hug her. The glowing wife and mom and successful businesswoman with a tad too much skin showing for her age.

 

She’d also made 34 Vampire Slasher movies in the 1980’s. Not much of a story line in any of them but a lot of gore and T&A. And oh yes, she wasn’t the swooning silly girl. She was the Vampire Sex Princess.

Sure it bordered on soft-core porn (actually there were 5 hard core porn films too) but the pay was great and she was smart with her money.

By the way, like 99% of my regular human clients she had no idea I’m a Vampire. So this was a little weird taking on the Vampire Sex Princess as a client.

And why am I telling you about this? It was business. From time to time (not as much as I used to) I’m asked to makeover the image of someone (usually semi famous). It has been anyone from politicians to people in the film industry to CEO’s of high tech companies and so on. It is all discreet and seamless. I’m a pro and of course they don’t know they’re dealing with a Vampire.

We met for lunch at a trendy but private place with a view of a lovely garden and good service. I ate little (as usual) and we shared a bottle of red wine.

So now my client was a wife and mom (oh right, which makes her now a saint) and wanting a new image.

Kat (short for Kathleen) looked at me with one of those you’re-not-going-to-believe-this-looks and said, “I was called Vampire Mom. Ouch. Someone suggested I do a Vampire Mom blog but that would be so tacky and my kids would lose all respect for me.”

“Someone else is already doing the Vampire Mom blog thing.” I smiled, not showing my fangs.  Of course someone else is doing the Vampire Mom blog thing and if she tried to replicate it her blog would only be a weak lifeless shadow. It would fail. It would die within a month.  “I agree, you need to see the Vampire roles as that, fictional roles. You’ve moved on.”

She gave me a blinding white smile. “Exactly. I had so much fun and made some of the best friends I’ve ever had. It was a blast. But I don’t identify with being a Vampire.”

“The key is to make it clear that playing a Vampire was a role you played, not who you really were or who you are now.”

“If Weiner can try to make a come back I don’t know why I shouldn’t be able to.”

OK I thought, that was an interesting and not so flattering comparison. All those guys. What was it with them cheating and telling lies than expecting us to forgive them? And their wives. I’d have such a bonfire in my driveway if Teddy pulled anything like that. On the other hand I’m a Vampire so I shouldn’t really care – but I do. Just like I care if my dog and children behave (and they DO always behave – all three of them.)

Kat continued to talk. “I took my clothes off on camera. But I was being paid as a professional. That is why it is called acting.”

“I agree.” I smiled again.

“If I took my clothes off today I’d still look that good.”

I said nothing.

“So you don’t judge me?” She asked me this as if she was surprised I had not reacted to her comment about taking off her clothes.

“Of course not.” I smiled. I positively glowed with reassurance as only a seasoned Vampire can do.  

It would be other thing that I could judge her on, but that wasn’t my place and she was giving off a lot of good vibes and sort of a nervous anxious energy. I was getting bored by it all, but in my head thinking up a plan and a strategy so she could get her new life and career going. She’d be a success. She just needed a little common sense and someone to help her with that jump-start.

True confession time. Like all Vampires (and writers) I’m a natural born liar. Sure I judged her. Not for making tacky movies. That was an honest living. I judged her for making excuses for what she had done and NOW wanting to be held up as the moral and perfect female role model. I judged her like I judge the child molester who says “I’m a good person now because I found God.”

I don’t know what it was about her that bugged me so much. I’m pretty open minded, impartial and fair. Maybe it was the fact that she was so freaking shallow.

Note to self: Have THE TALK to the kids on being SHALLOW.

She talked for another hour while I took notes. Kat wanted a new image and I can understand that completely. We all go through changes – that is part of life. The average person changes several many times before they retire. The average person changes lifestyles many times.

We discussed the options. She had a list:

  • Parenting expert (questionable)
  • Fashion for moms of a certain age (good choice)
  • Fitness (good choice)
  • Cooking with a fresh attitude (good choice)
  • Vampires (bad choice)

She was naturally fun, likeable (despite being so shallow) and good in front of a camera. I’d do wonders for her. Under my expert hands she’d be a bright warm shining star!

After I was done with Kat (the interview, just an interview and notes), I walked down the street and for a fleeting moment thought about how my kids have told me that they think I’m funny and they’re proud of me. I’ve done a lot of weird things too but that is my story and secrets and not a public dialogue.

Then I pondered a bit, but not too much about how Vampires have learned to keep the secrets of who they are.

We all have secrets. But secrets aren’t that bad of a thing.

  • A secret crush
  • A secret joke
  • A secret song
  • A secret thought
  • A secret kiss
  • A secret that could hurt someone if told
  • A secret judgment
  • A secret that is just what it is – a secret.

 

Most of us live in several different worlds – work, school, parent, employee, friend, daughter, sister, lover, wife, artist, writer…

We had different past lives as well.

And then there is that world, that secret place where you are truly who you are, alone, with nobody else but you.

In the world of the typical busy mom that place, alone and secret, is a sanctuary at times. It is that lovely alone time in the car, but then it is such an easy transition to that wonderful time when you pick your kids up from school and they talk to you about what they learned, what their friends are up to, what they discussed with their teachers, what silly thing happened in the lunchroom.  The list goes on and then you realize that this is where you should be – a perfect world that is with a definition of perfection being love without having to think.

Last time I took one of the cats into the Vet she told me “Cats have rich and wonderful lives outside our ours.” Knowing my cats I can only imagine.  I don’t trust my dog either. But they’re keeping those lives secret from me. One day my cat came strolling down the street singing along without a care in the world. My neighbor (3 houses down) said, “Is that your cat? He comes over and has conversations with me almost every day.”  The other cat has a different circle of friends who populate her secret life.

You have a past that belongs to you alone. And even though it is in the past you are still accountable. You might not be proud of it. You might have made mistakes. Nonetheless it is yours and your responsibility. The best you can do is own up to it. The worst you can do is not to learn by your past or your past mistakes.

And the only way we can grow and be the Vampires (and people) we want to be is to LEARN from our mistakes and always go forward. We can only get better. I mean, sure we can get worse, but the goal is to always move forward.

In the meantime, I just got a message from Kat. She has more ideas. Oh joy.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman (who is feeling rather random and disjointed of late…)

Moth

A Toast to Dragons – Drasmyr Interview

I’ve reposted a fun interview from the blog of author Matthew D. Ryan. (Thanks Matthew). I thought you all would enjoy it!

 

http://atoasttodragons.com/2012/07/05/drasmyr-interview-re-post/

Drasmyr Interview (Re-Post)

This was originally posted on another blog during my blog tour, but I liked it so much, I wanted to post it here as well. So, without further preamble, I give you:

The Drasmyr Interview:

Today we have with us, Lucian val Drasmyr… warrior, general, and vampire. He’s walked the world of Athron for a thousand years, and is here visiting Earth for this once in a lifetime interview at A Toast to Dragons with esteemed guest journalist and newsman Chris Matthews (not really, but we’ll just pretend).

 

Chris Matthews: Greetings, Lucian. It’s good to see you. I’m glad you agreed to this interview. You look a little pale, but I guess that’s to be expected in your line of work. Your journey here must have been exhausting. How are you feeling today?

Lucian: A bit peckish, actually.

 

Chris Matthews: <pales> Oh, really? Uh… um… That’s a trifle unsettling. I’ll just get going with the… rest of the interview. Um… how would you describe your relationship with Clarissa? Is it romantic?

Lucian: Love is an emotion that vampires—real vampires—cannot fathom, let alone feel. Your kind would do well to put your fanciful notions of devoted, affectionate vampires back in the graves from whence they came, and restore us to our rightful place as heirs of the Damned. As for Clarissa, she served a purpose.

 

Chris Matthews:  Can you describe what it’s like to sink your teeth into a human being?

Lucian: My teeth puncture flesh. Then, I taste blood. A lot of it.

 

Chris Matthews: Can you describe the bloodlust?

Lucian: Perhaps by analogy… not drinking blood is like multiplying your libido by ten, then taking a vow of celibacy.

 

Chris Matthews: Ouch… how about religion. Interested readers want to know: do you believe in God?

Lucian: The god of your world or mine? Or are you going to be philosophical and posit a god of all worlds? It matters little to me. There may be a single God, or many lesser gods, but none have ever served me well. Since I became a vampire, more often than not, I find myself on the opposing side of whichever god is involved in the altercation. It’s a habit I have.

 

Chris Matthews: Do you have any qualms about what you do?

Lucian: No. Do you?

 

Chris Matthews:  My understanding is that you became a vampire by choice. Is that true? And if so, why did you do it?

Lucian: I was a zealot, totally devoted to the man I believed to be a god. I would have done anything he asked me to, perhaps even commit suicide if it served his cause. And, in a way, that is exactly what I did. I died to my old self and my old life, and was reborn as something greater. But there at the beginning, I was little more than a mindless minion.

 

Chris Matthews:  Do you have any regrets about your decision?

Lucian: Life is filled with decisions and regrets. I try not to dwell on my own, because I have a thousand years worth of such deliberations to burden me. It can get tiresome if you spend too much time looking behind. I try to focus on the future, because I have a lot of it to look forward to. <licks lips>

 

Chris Matthews: What separates you from other vampires?

Lucian: My patience for impertinent questions and sniveling lackeys. If the truth be known, it is my personality that distinguishes me. Although the powers of vampires vary from tale to tale, one cannot gain distinction by a clever use of innate ability. It is the vampires inner world that makes him (or her) unique. Pining, love-struck weakling or ruthless killer, it is what he uses his gifts for that determines whether or not he will establish a potent and lasting legacy.

 

Chris Matthews: Do you have any weaknesses?

Lucian: No.

 

Chris Matthews: Surely, there must be—

Lucian: No.

 

Chris Matthews: Okay, moving on. What are your goals in life?

Lucian: Some vampires seek companionship—I am not one of those. Others seek world domination—if the world offered anything of value beyond cattle, perhaps I would be one of those. But as it is, I exist to feed and accrue personal power. Politics, I can do without. Should it ever come my way, though, my greatest desire is revenge.

 

Chris Matthews:  Revenge? On who?

Lucian: On all those who have ever done me wrong. <shrugs> And on some of those who haven’t.

 

Chris Matthews: Interesting. If you could only kill Coragan of Esperia orRegecon the Archmage… who would you choose?

Lucian: Edward Cullen. Because I like to hurt sparkly things.

 

Chris Matthews: What do you do in your spare time?

Lucian: I read books. Philosophy, magical treatises, and historical texts.

 

Chris Matthews: Interesting. What is your greatest accomplishment?

Lucian: My accomplishments are too many to name, too great to be catalogued, and too far beyond the ken of your kind to bear scrutiny. I have walked the world of Athron for a thousand years; that alone is a triumph compared to the feeble existence your kind can eke out. I know more about the workings of the world and the fabric of time than the wisest of men. Don’t insult me by pretending you can grasp even a sliver of my greatness.

 

Chris Matthews: Er…if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

Lucian: A tree?

 

Chris Matthews:  Yes. A tree.

Lucian: Is that some reference to wooden stakes? Is that a threat?

 

Chris Matthews: <wets self> Um. No. Readers just want to know these things.

Lucian: Then I pity your authors.

 

Chris Matthews:  Okay. Moving on… It appears you are wanted on Athron for a number of murders. Have you ever considered immigrating to the United States to escape your persecutors?

Lucian: You give my persecutors far too much credit. I don’t fear mortals. I’ve seen nations crumble to dust and demigods meet their undoing. What could a few pesky wizards and an odd warrior or two hope to bring to bear against me?

 

Chris Matthews: Do you have any advice for the modern American teen?

Lucian: Eat your vegetables. You’ll taste better.

 

Chris Matthews: How many people have you killed?

Lucian: One too few.

 

Chris Matthews: Well, that concludes our interview for today. We are glad you could make it, Mr. Drasmyr. We are curious, though, what inspired you to make the trip… it is a long way, and a most difficult journey, I imagine?

 

Lucian: The author and I came to… an arrangement. <licks lips>

Chris Matthews:  What do you mean?… Oh, God… No… Aaaahhhh!

 

Lucian: Blecch! Journalists. They all taste the same.

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About atoasttodragons

The author, Matthew D. Ryan, lives in northern New York on the shores of Lake Champlain, one of the largest lakes in the continental United States, famous for the Battle of Plattsburgh and the ever-elusive Lake Champlain Monster, a beastie more commonly referred to as Champy. Matthew has studied philosophy, mathematics, and computer science in the academic world. He has earned a black belt in martial arts.

An earthbound angel with crumpled, cardboard wings” – Tag Line Tuesday with Stephanie Abbott

A wonderful interview of author Stephanie Abbot (grown-up books) by M. Edward McNally.

http://sablecity.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/an-earthbound-angel-with-crumpled-cardboard-wings-tag-line-tuesday-with-stephanie-abbott/