Brenda Starr's Interview with WA: Transcript

Beth, over at A Cup of Coffey, sent me these questions, at my invitation, last Friday, and I apologise for not answering them sooner. I don't know how she'd do as an investigative reporter, but as an interviewer she clearly has what it takes.

If you'd like me to interview you, just send me an e-mail at thewanderingauthor at yahoo dot com or leave your e-mail, suitably disguised, in the comments to this post, and I'll e-mail you the interview questions within a few days. If anyone has already read this, and notices the changes; I'm sorry. I meant to click Save Draft but clicked Publish instead when my cats needed urgent attention. So yes, I have edited it.

My desire to leave up my warning to pet owners (and, for those who haven't heard, contamination has also been traced, now, to food intended for humans; pork, poultry, and granola bars are all affected as far as I've heard), followed by the Day of Silence, then my need to clear up a backlog of posts, all added to the delay. I intended to post this yesterday, but after hauling out barrels of milk and honey to reward the Fair Folk, I was just too exhausted to finish.

1. What was your first written piece?

This is actually a tough question. I wanted to write, and did write, as far back as I can remember. The first piece I remember specifically was a story I wrote in fourth grade. We had elective "clubs"; I'm sure my readers will be shocked to learn that I chose Creative Writing. We had a contest, which I won. (No doubt that's the reason it sticks in my mind.) I'm not sure if a copy survives, buried somewhere, but all I can recall about it is the fact it was a mystery.

In fifth grade, the first piece I specifically recall writing with no outside prompting at all (there were earlier ones, but I don't remember anything about them) was a poem titled The River. The main reason I remember this is that I spent hours revising it numerous times over the next few years, but never could elevate it above the level of a trite little verse. I'm sure I destroyed the original draft many years ago, but fear at least one later draft survives, securely hidden, safe from prying reporters.

2. What's your desert island book?

You see, this is how reporters force their sources to talk. They threaten them with truly terrible tortures, such as being forced to live with a single book for company. Humane treatment would dictate several thousand, at least.

[whimpers] One book? How can I choose just one book? Oh, if you insist. But how can I leave behind... Oh, all right! The Lord of the Rings - wait! That means I can't have... Oh, the cruelty! My imagination is seared, just picturing such a fate.

For what it's worth, I've changed this answer several times; if it is to be one book, it must be one I can make last. But how could I possibly live without... Oh, it's useless! Whittling it down to a list of a hundred books would leave me mourning the titles left behind. What can I say? Other people shoot heroin into their veins; I mainline books into my brain instead.

3. Who would sit at your Algonquin Roundtable?

Well, at least since membership was never formal, there is no fixed number. I'm afraid my table would get a bit crowded, though. (In alphabetical order):

Sholem Asch, Gillian Bradshaw, C. J. Cherryh, G. K. Chesterton, Winston Churchill, Lindsey Davis, L. Sprague deCamp, Anne Frank, Robert Graves, C. S. Lewis, Archibald MacLeish, Christine de Pisan, Dorothy L. Sayers, Nevil Shute, Judith Tarr, Dylan Thomas, Harry Turtledove, Kurt Vonnegut, Leonard Wibberley, Elie Wiesel, Charles Williams

4. What makes you deliriously happy?

My cats, and writing, especially when I'm able to sit outdoors with my cats and write in a Moleskine with a Pelikan fountain pen using Noodlers Ink.

5. Where would you like your journey to end?

I would sail across the ocean to the Great Library Beyond the Sea, where I'd find all the cats I've ever loved waiting, and a library filled with every book imaginable, including all those I've ever wanted to write, where other authors and all the people I love and admire stroll the aisles, pick out books, sit down to read, converse in the courtyard or on the shores of the island... and, of course, all those books would just give me inspiration to write still more, which I could publish on the letterpresses in the Library's basement. (I hope it goes without saying that the Great Library is supernaturally well stocked with Moleskines, Pelikan pens, and Noodlers Ink.)