Wednesday 12 March 2014

Interview with Author Vanessa Wright about her book, Twisted

Today, I am welcoming author, Vanessa Wright to my blog to answer some questions and talk about her book, Twisted.

Can you tell us a little about yourself?
Vanessa is a 47 year old visual artist, author, mom and pug breeder. Two of her Afrikaans short stories have recently been published in My kort vir jou sop available on www.amazon.com as an e-book and released in soft cover at www.boekemakranka.co.za  She has taken part in Nanowromo 2012 and 2013 and reached the target on day 26. She has also published a collection of short stories on Smashwords, titled Twisted: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/361196.

She has written the winning Christmas story in Wordpress’ competition: http://awritersgallery.wordpress.com/2013/12/22/winner-for-the-christmas-writers-challenge/

She has her own blog at http://iread1966.wordpress.com, appropriately named Humouring the dark where the muse has captured many readers’ attention and a book about the character is in the offing. She is also active on Facebook and Twitter and is a member of a writing group. She leads her own book club and is a true bookaholic. Writing has always been her passion, however the timing always seemed incorrect as daily life interrupted more frequently than not. Now, she has decided to go big or go home.



Tell us about your book, Twisted.
A collection of 22 short stories from the bizarre to the truly chilling as the author takes you along for a roller coaster ride, welcoming you to the darker side of humanity. She delves into the shadowy world of obsessions, addictions, death and the loss of innocence and imagination. She takes an honest, in depth look at things that happen all around us, yet we tend to ignore. Here we are forced to look at the pain of what it means to be human in all its various facets and to truly explore the face that looks back at us in the mirror. No one is truly good or truly evil; nothing is exclusively beautiful or ugly, we are a sublime mix of the two, walking the tightrope median between the two opposites. The author expects the reader to think about what he has just read and to question the so called normalcy of everyday life. She peels back the layers to reveal the hidden skeletons in the closet. Fear, doubt, depression, loneliness, bulimia are only some of the elements which are open for discussion. As a society we have shied away from the darker aspects that are certainly part and parcel of who we are. Surely the path to true wisdom and resolution of these issues is in the enlightenment thereof, the dusting off of the cobwebs in the cupboard.

Buy link https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/361196

Excerpt: Bright Lines
The pain was so excruciating that the primitive, instinctual mind swept in and strangled her hold on the cold, metal object in her hand; survival being paramount.  She endured a few agonizing seconds before euphoria washed her away and out to a sea of peace.

She could feel her mind escaping the confines of her body; the binding chains were thrown off, liberating her imprisoned soul.  With a sigh of relief she became a light, downy feather abreast the rising air currents.  She bobbed rhythmically to the deep internal breathing of the earth.  She held her own breath, afraid of disturbing the feeling of inner peace and warmth that suffused her body. It broke through barriers and walls that were cemented into her soul by time; shattered her strongholds and allayed age old fears of insecurity and worthlessness. In this second, now, she was more than worthy.

Colours appeared brighter as if life had been washed back into them.  The bleach had leeched out and leaves on the elm trees outside ran green with the sap of life.  The sky seemed to bleed blue into the day.  She exhaled slowly, carefully and watched her breath become kaleidoscopic reds, greens, yellows and shiny purples.  Tentatively she reached out and touched the brittle clouds of vapour and dissipated them into slithering ribbons of light.  Their beautiful reflections made her eyes hurt and her heart contract with sadness and loss.  

Her body became weightless, tethered to the earth by a gossamer spider’s thread.  Threadbare she had come into this earth and threadbare she would escape its confines.  Her thoughts scattered and twisted, undulating lazily around the idea of living and surviving.  Perhaps and perhaps not she thought, giggling giddily.  Control was hers to keep or to release.  How easy it would be to allow her life to slip silently away.  Allow it to be carried away on sea breezes and on the white feathers of barn owls.

Her outer shell could then become one with the earth, decomposed and nutrient rich. Her bits and pieces gnawed at, secreted away by chipmunks and field mice; becoming part of a shelter here and the lining of a cosy nest there. Scattered and mindlessly free she would roam the earth, and her life’s circle would close, ending where it had begun…..dust to dust. At this thought a lazy self-indulgent smile curled at the corners of her wide mouth.

Writing – why?
I write because there is no other choice, it is the only way to get the characters to shut up and leave me alone.

Is there any genre you won't write and why?
No I cross genres so many times that my head spins and am a sucker for pleasing readers.

What is your favourite genre and why?
My favourite genre would be psychological thrillers. I love getting into the heads of the murderers.

Do you have conversations with your characters?
I constantly have conversations with my characters which is why I argue with them when they make a choice that I have not foreseen. They say the test for insanity is when you answer back.

If you could describe yourself in one word, what would it be?
crazy-quirky

If you could invite one character from your books to dinner, who would it be?
I would invite my muse- she is even crazier than I am and a hoot, which is guaranteed to liven up any dinner party.

Are you a dog or a cat person, why?
Both a dog and a cat person- 3 cats and 9 dogs.

Thanks for joining me today, Vanessa.

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