Have You Always Wanted To Write?

Hello out there.

Welcome to another question and answer video. We received a lot of great questions for this and I’ve tried not to be boring. I’m starting to get my legs under me as far as being in front of a camera is concerned. So, thank you for bearing with us.

This video was taken in front of Brookland Cayce High School. This is where both Cate and I graduated. At the very beginning of this video, I was clearly being a goofball. However, it was because of Cate. Just a minute earlier, she messed up the introduction, calling me Jeff instead of A.J. (For those of you keeping score at home, my initials are A.J., but most of the non writing, non publishing, non reading world know me as Jeff.) She had done a marvelous introduction then out came ‘Jeff.’ Her reaction was hilarious, and no, I will not sully her reputation with telling y’all what was said.

Onto the next question, which is from Trish Cline. She asked a question I’ve received before, but she asked it in a different way:

“I know writing is a big part of your life. Have you always wanted to write? Did you make up stories as a child and develop them into full length books?”

Here is my response:

Wait, before you leave, don’t forget about my newest novel, My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert. We’ve all had to do that new school year report on what we did during the summer. I used to hate them. I’m sure some of y’all did, too. But did you ever spend your summer vacation in a boys institution? Check out the synopsis below.

On the third day of summer vacation in 1979, three boys walked along the side of a road, laughing, talking about baseball cards, swimming at Booger’s Pond and Sarah Tucker, the prettiest girl in school. How could they know a few minutes later one of them would be dead, one crippled and one about to face the worse summer of his life? 

Wrongly accused of a crime he didn’t commit, Jimmy Lambert is sent to The Mannassah Hall Institute for Boys. On his first day there, Doctor William English strikes him. It would be the first of many Jimmy would suffer at the hands of guards and inmates. Fighting back is an option, but could it have dire consequences?

As Jimmy loses hope, two unlikely people come to his aid. Will they be in time to save him from the bullies at The Mannassah Hall Institute for Boys? Or will they be too late?

Doesn’t that sound like an awesome read? If so, please consider purchasing a print copy directly from me. Yes, it is on Amazon, but Amazon isn’t exactly author friendly, but that is a story for another day.

If you would like a copy of My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert, click on the purchase button below and don’t forget to leave your information so we can get it shipped to you. We’ll try to accommodate international orders as well, but that depends on the cost of shipping. I hate to say that, but shipping to international countries can be expensive sometimes.

Thank you for coming by for the video and promotion. Until we meet again my friends, be kind to one another.

A.J.

My Summer Vacatrion by Jimmy Lambert

This is A.J. Brown's newest novel. Price includes shipping within the United States.

$15.00

How Do You Work On Multiple Projects?

Welcome back to another segment of Question and Answer with an author. Today, I get to answer a question by Christopher Bonner. A quick back story here: In 2019, I was asked to sit in on a virtual writing class. Being that writing is one of my top one subjects in the world (yes, I did write it that way on purpose), I said sure. I attended several of those classes, and at some point, I began discussing writing with the students. Christopher and I hit it off fairly well, and we’ve had some great discussions about writing since. I’ve been fortunate enough to read several pieces of his work. He’s got chops and a solid grasp of writing and telling stories. I’m really excited to see what the future has in store for him. Keep your eyes out. He is one to watch.

Christopher asked a great question:

“You shared with me how many things you’re working on simultaneously. How do you keep everything flowing and cohesive within the individual stories with that many projects going? Do you have a system to help or is everything just swimming around in your mind?”

Here is my answer:

Are those fishies swimming around up there?

I don’t feel like I answered the question completely, so I will put the rest of my answer in the comments below. 

As always, thank you for stopping by and if you have a question you would like to ask, drop it in the comments and we’ll get them answered. 

Until we meet again my friends, be kind to one another.

A.J.

Who Is Your Favorite Character?

Today, we tackle Question Number 2 in the Ask An Author series. Christina Eleanor asks, Of all of your books, who is your favorite character and why?

Before I go into this, Jack Ketcham once answered the question ‘What is your favorite book that you have written?’ with the response of, like our children, writers should not have a favorite book. I can honestly say I do have a favorite book, but my favorite character is not from that book.

This is a great question. I have received similar questions to this in the past, and have had an instant answer. That answer constantly flip flopped between two characters. However, I think I’ve always, secretly loved another character more. Check out the video for my response.

Did I surprise you with my answer? If so, let me know. 

Thank you, Christina, for this question, and if you have any questions you would like answered, drop a comment below and we will answer them, either in a blog like this one or a video, or both (probably both).

As always, thank you for stopping by, and until we meet again my friends, be kind to one another.

A.J.

Voices, The Interviews: Mr. Worrywort

SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT

Before reading today’s post, I want to tell you about our little project. In the coming months one character from each story in my collection, Voices, will be interviewed by Lisa Lee with Bibliophilia Templum. 

No, this is not your typical interview session. What I want to do is make each interview like a story, one that continues until we reach the end. Some of these are going to be short. Some of them might be long. I don’t know. Like you, I will find out just how long each interview is based on the questions Lisa provides me. I don’t know the questions ahead of time and neither do the characters.

Since this is an interview, I will go ahead and say up front there are spoilers in each session. If you have not read Voices, I urge you to do so before continuing (you can pick up a copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BJ73QP9). If you haven’t read the collection, you have been made aware of possible spoilers. 

One more thing before the first session: if you have read Voices and would like to ask a question of today’s character, leave a comment at the end, and I will see about getting an answer from the character for you. Don’t be shy, ask your questions. You may get an interesting response.

SESSION 2: Mr. Worrywort

Lisa takes a deep breath. She didn’t expect the defiant tone in Spencer’s voice. She didn’t expect him to sound as if he enjoyed what happened to Sarah and Bobby. She wonders, very briefly, if Spencer knows Sarah didn’t die. Oh, Bobby had and he had suffered greatly before doing so, but Sarah still lives and is currently housed in the Century Falls Mental Institute, a place surrounded by brick walls that span twenty feet from the ground. One could try to climb it, but with no foot or hand holds and the top laced with razor wire, no one is getting in or out that way without paying a painful price. 

She releases the breath and looks around the horseshoe shaped chairs. Fourteen are occupied. The one where Spencer had sat seems, to her, to have never had anyone occupying it. The cushioned yellow seat appears bland compared to the others. The brown of the metal legs are lighter than the others. Lisa shakes her head. 

It’s all in my head.

The faces of the other fourteen individuals in the room are turned in every direction except toward her. One of them … one of them looks different. She cocks her head to the side and stares at him. She doesn’t recognize him from the character sheet she had been given before arriving. 

“You,” she says. 

The man she speaks to flinches, but doesn’t look up.

“Excuse me. Who are you?”

“That is Mr. Worrywort, Ma’am.” 

Screen Shot 2018-01-06 at 2.26.45 PMTo her right a man whose skin is like mahogany sits forward in his seat. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands are clasped together as if he is about to pray. He looks as if he has worn life on his shoulders and the weight is pulling him down. 

“Mr. Worrywort?”

“Yes’m.”

“How do you know that, Sir?”

The old man smiles. His teeth are yellow and there is only a twinkle of hope in them. “We all has a bit of Mr. Worrywort in us, Ma’am. It’s our thinker.”

Chet! her mind screams. The sudden realization strikes her and she knows the questions she needs to ask.

“Mr. Worrywort?” she asks. 

This time the man looks at her. His features are plain, almost nonexistent. She studies him for a few seconds. She sees his eyes and nose and even his lips, but she can’t make any of them out. She knows that later when she tries to recall anything about him, she won’t remember. 

Sometimes, remembrances are not good, she thinks, then wonders if the voice in her head is her Mr. Worrywort, or in this case, a Mrs. Worrywort. She licks her lips and speaks again. 

“Are you still willing to speak with me?

He nods. 

“Thank you. I will keep this short. Okay?”

Another nod.

“You are the inner voice of Chet, right?”

This time he shrugs, then nods. “I suppose so.” His voice is monotone, flat, a voice she won’t remember. 

“Is ‘inner voice’ the correct title for you, or do you prefer something else?”

She hears him take a deep breath. When he releases it, his words come with it and there is a touch of resignation in them. “That’s what some people call us. Others say we’re this thing called a conscience.” He makes invisible quote marks in the air, using two fingers on both hands to do so. “Some people see us as a devil or an angel who resides on their shoulders. However, most people call us demons, and use us as excuses for why they do bad things or do nothing at all. Chet calls me Mr. Worrywort because I try to warn him when he is about to make a bad decision.”

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t care much for Chet.”

He smiles. This she sees. It is plain … nothing worth remembering. “I care quite a bit for him. After all, without him, I do not exist. I’m like a rudder on a boat meant to steer the vessel on its course and out of trouble. Some people’s rudders are broken. They are tired or even lazy. They’ve given up on their vessel, so they let them float in the waters, near the rocks, into storms. I … I don’t do that. I do my best to steer him clear of bad actions.”

Lisa’s lips purse for a second, maybe two. “Do you feel like Chet listens to you more or ignores you more?”

“He …” Mr. Worrywort pauses. “He used to.”

“Used to?”

“Yes, before he married that woman.” There is anger in his voice, a true emotion, though some might say it’s not a real feeling at all, but a secondary one, something easily controlled and is never truly felt. 

“You mean Kay?”

“Yes, she is who I’m talking about.”

“Interesting.”

absolutely-ideas-hercules-folding-chairs-i-have-destroyed-scribblings-in-the-dark“It’s not interesting!” he yells. The room shakes. The characters in the other chairs are all looking at him now. Some of them look fearful, while others look bored or amused. “She’s going to get us killed one day. She’s almost gotten us killed a couple of times, but the last time … the last time was the worst. ‘Let’s take a trip,’ she said. ‘It will be fun,’ she said. ‘If it snows I’m sure we can find something to do.’ She said that all flirty-like, knowing Chet wouldn’t—couldn’t!—resist her. It was snowing! I hate driving in the snow. But Chet wouldn’t listen, you see. Chet was all, ‘okay, Babe,’ and she almost got us killed.”

“I don’t see how she almost got you killed, Mr. Worrywort. Chet made a decision—it was his choice.”

“He ignored me because of her! If not for her, we wouldn’t have been in that situation.”

“I see. So, since he married Kay, he ignores you more and more. Is that what you are saying?”

His arms are crossed over his chest now. His legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. “Yes, that’s what I said. If he would have just listened to me when his friend offered to ‘hook them up’ we would never have to deal with the things she does and the danger she puts us in.”

She nods and shifts the conversation slightly away from Kay. “How do you feel when he ignores you?”

Mr. Worrywort laughs. It is much like Spencer’s and something she feels is a sign of a deteriorating conversation. His chair creaks when he sits up. There is a frown on his face that appears to have been carved into his nonexistent features. “How do you feel when someone ignores you?”

Her first thought is, I ask the questions. She doesn’t say that. Instead, she answers him. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it?” Another of those angered laughs comes out. “I hate it. I loathe it. How can you ignore someone who is always right?”

“But, are you really always right?” It is out before she processes it. Again, she wonders if her inner voice came up with that one.

Mr. Worrywort says nothing right away. He appears to be thinking on it, or maybe stewing about the truth. 

“When it comes to Chet, I am always right. Always.”

“I think Chet would beg to differ with you there.”

A black cloud of anger hovers on Mr. Worrywort’s face. His breaths are loud, in/out, in/out, the sound of a freight train chugging along the tracks. 

“What do you know? What do you know about me or Chet or anything for that matter?”

Lisa smiles at this. Though she doesn’t want conflict she thought there could be some before arriving there that morning. The subjects are touchy and the characters have been through more in a span of four to twenty thousand words than the average person goes through in a week. But this guy … she knows exactly what this guy is. She has come across his type many times in her life.

“I know you are manipulative. I know you get angry when you don’t get it your way. And I know you are selfish and self serving and don’t have Chet’s best interests in mind.”

“His interest is the only thing I have in mind!”

“No, Sir. Your interests are what you have in mind. You are afraid to live. Kay is not and she has shown Chet not to be afraid to live, to laugh, to love and to care. Maybe you should take a lesson from her inner voice, or maybe your own.”

“I don’t have an inner voice! None of those like me do.”

“Maybe that’s your problem. Maybe you need one.”

“I’m done here,” Mr. Worrywort says. He stands up in a hurry. The chair pushes back, tilts on its back legs and falls over, folding in on itself. Mr. Worrywort turns, shoves the fallen chair with one foot. It scrapes across the tiled floor. He doesn’t go to the door. Instead, he hurries to one darkened corner and fades into the shadows.

Lisa stares to where he went. One thought enters her mind. I can see why he might be called a demon …

To be continued …

Voices, The Interviews: Spencer

SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT

Screen Shot 2018-01-06 at 2.26.45 PM.pngBefore reading today’s post, I want to tell you about our little project. In the coming months one character from each story in my collection, Voices, will be interviewed by Lisa Lee with Bibliophilia Templum. 

No, this is not your typical interview session. What I want to do is make each interview like a story, one that continues until we reach the end. Some of these are going to be short. Some of them might be long. I don’t know. Like you, I will find out just how long each interview is based on the questions Lisa provides me. I don’t know the questions ahead of time and neither do the characters.

Since this is an interview, I will go ahead and say up front there are spoilers in each session. If you have not read Voices, I urge you to do so before continuing (you can pick up a copy here). If you haven’t read the collection, you have been made aware of possible spoilers. 

One more thing before the first session: if you have read Voices and would like to ask a question of today’s character, leave a comment at the end, and I will see about getting an answer from the character for you. Don’t be shy, ask your questions. You may get an interesting response.

SESSION 1

The doorknob is cold to the touch. Lisa let her palm linger as she takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes and gathers her thoughts. Beyond the door are the people she was sent to talk to, to interview. 

“You can do this,” she says and takes another deep breath. Forcing a smile, she turns the knob and opens the door. 

A room with gray walls and dirty white tiles greets her. The lights overhead are fluorescents and casts dim shadows into the corners where she imagines cobwebs cling to the ceiling and spiders caress the carcasses of dead bugs before eating them. There’s not much in the room. A brown piano along the right wall, its ivory keys yellow and its ebony ones having lost their luster. A table sits to her left, complete with clear plastic cups containing water and various juices. There are no snacks to be seen. 

In the center of the room are sixteen folding chairs, each one upholstered with cushions a shade of yellow out of the seventies. Stuck to the backs of each chair is a sticker that says Holly’s Mortuary. Fifteen of them form the shape of a U and are occupied. One of them—the one in the center—is not. 

Lisa doesn’t focus on any one of the fifteen people waiting for her, each one in their own little world, recalling the stories of their lives, possibly in vivid details, possibly through hazy clouds of the thing we call forgetfulness. Women. Men. Children. They all turn and look at her when the door closes with a click that is too loud in her ears. Her smile falters, but not for long. She forces it back in place, straightens her shirt and walks toward what she calls The Fifteen. She reaches her chair, turns and sits down. 

Scanning the room, she takes in the blank stares, resentful faces, some even with a touch of sadness filling their eyes. She settles on one individual, a young boy in his mid-teens and a pimple on the side of his face. She considers him for a moment. He is not fat, but he is not thin either. Most would call him chubby, something she knows bothers him. He stares at the floor, at his shoes. One of them is untied, the loose ends frayed

“Spencer,” she says and waits for him to look up. When he does, she sees the circle of gray beneath his eyes. “Hi.”

He says nothing, but he does frown, an expression that reminds her of Eeyore from the Winnie the Pooh cartoons. “I understand you are a good student. Is that right?”

He looks at her with those sad eyes.

“Well? Are you a good student?”

Spencer nods. It’s a jerky sort of motion. “Yes … yes, ma’am.”

Lisa smiles. It’s a start. “Good to hear, Spencer. So, what do you do for fun? Any hobbies? Extracurricular activities?”

Spencer shrugs. “I … I don’t know. I umm … There is this place I hang out at sometimes. It’s called The Game Room and it’s … it’s where my friends and I play games. You know like Munchkin and Magic, the Gathering.”

“Interesting.” She stares at the boy. She wants to go easy on him, lob some painless questions his way so he can hit them out of the park. She doesn’t want to scare him, to make him any more nervous than he already is. 

You’re not here to be his mother, she thinks. Time to take the kid gloves off.

“Spencer, what scares you?”

photo-1504401774599-1b5378bfaae3His head jerks up. His eyes are wide. His bottom lip quivers. Lisa suddenly feels sorry for him, but she knows she can’t turn back now.

“Umm … what?”

“What are you afraid of?”

He licks his lips and then wipes his nose. He takes several deep breaths. “Umm …”

“It’s okay, Spencer. This isn’t the outside world. No one’s going to judge you here.”

“I’m scared of shadows.”

“Shadows?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Lisa points to one of the darkened corners behind him. “Like those shadows?”

He shrugs. 

“Is there something in the shadows, Spencer?”

He nods. His eyes focus on the corner closest to the door. 

“Are the shadows … bad?”

He looks back at her. His lip no longer trembles and his voice is soft. “Sometimes.”

It’s Lisa’s turn to nod. Her gut tells her she isn’t going to get much more out of him about the shadows. She switches gears. “What about pretty girls? Are they bad?”

“Sometimes.”

“What about pretty girls named Sarah?” 

Spencer stiffens. He looks down at his hands, then back up at Lisa. “Yes.”

“You fell for the pretty girl trap, didn’t you?”

His frown deepens. He gives a nod, but says nothing.

Lisa shakes her head. “What makes teenage boys fall for the pretty girl trap?”

“I didn’t know it was a trap. She was … was so pretty and she needed help with one of her classes and she invited me over. I just wanted to help her out.”  

“Did you really think it was a study invitation?”

Ten seconds pass and he says nothing. Another fifteen follows. “I thought she liked me. I hoped she liked me. No girl has ever liked me before. No girl has ever shown me any attention before, and she … she acted like she liked me.” His voice holds agitation in it, an edge that Lisa didn’t think she could get from him. She reverses gears this time.

“So, the shadows …”

“They’re not just shadows,” he snaps. “They are shadow people and they don’t like humans. They kill. They eat. They don’t like me.”

“But they didn’t kill you?”

He laughs. “No, they didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they killed Bobby.”

“And Sarah?”

He shrugs. 

“Did you let the shadow people harm Bobby and Sarah?”

The corners of Spencer’s mouth turn up slightly. “I didn’t let them harm Bobby and Sarah. I just let them take them. It’s Bobby and Sarah’s fault they got hurt.”

“Okay. How do you feel about letting the shadow people take Bobby and Sarah?”

Another shrug. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Do you think they deserved it?”

Spencer smiles fully now. It is a haunting expression. His eyes become darker. He isn’t looking at his hands now. He is looking straight at Lisa and his face is glowing. He laughs, a sound that is disturbing to hear. “Oh, yes. They deserved it. I just wish I hadn’t been too scared to watch.”

He sits back in his chair, puts his hands on his knees. “Is that all, Ma’am?”

“Yes,” Lisa says. 

“Can I go now?”

“Yes. You can return to the page now.”

Spencer stands, nods at Lisa. He doesn’t look at any of the others in the room. A moment later he stands at the door and glances back. His eyes are sad again. “Come,” he says and motions toward one of the corners untouched by light. A shadow pulls itself from the darkness and creeps along the top of the wall, staying in the unlit areas until it reaches the door. Spencer opens it. The shadow passes over the door jamb with an angry hiss and disappears before Spencer steps through and closes the door behind him.

To be continued …