1. Who are you? (A name would be good here…preferably the one you write under)
2. What type of stuff do you write? (Besides shopping lists)
Fantasy, mystery, comedy, recipes, science fiction, romance, suspense — however the story comes out, that’s what I call it.
3. What do you want to pimp right now? (May it be your newest, your work-in-progress, your favorite or even your first)
A DEAD GUY AT THE SUMMERHOUSE is a paranormal suspense, possibly YA. When Mitch is hired by an elderly eccentric to guard her dogs from murder, he thinks she’s sweetly dotty. Then he learns his predecessor died on the job, and some members of the household think Mitch is possessed by his spirit. Some of them are none too happy about that….
4. What is your favorite book? (Okay, or two or three or… I know how writers are as readers.)
THREE MEN IN A BOAT, by Jerome K. Jerome is my absolute favorite book EVER! I also love Mervyn Peake’s GORMENGHAST trilogy (well, the first two books), and THE LIFE AND DEATH (BUT MOSTLY THE DEATH) OF ERICA FLYNN, by Sara Marian.
5. What other hats do you wear besides the writer hat?
I’m Editorial Manager and one-third owner of Per Bastet Publications (http://perbastetpublications.com). That, and writing, now involves quite a bit of marketing, too. I also blog daily at Marian Allen, Author Lady (http://MarianAllen.com).
6. What link can we find you at?
I’m at Marian Allen, Author Lady (http://MarianAllen.com), where I blog daily and have Free Reads and sample chapters.
The best advice
The late Dick Stodghill (http://stodg.blogspot.com/) gave me the best advice ever, and I pass it on to anybody I think could use it: Don’t take yourself too seriously, but DO take your work seriously. This may not be an exact quote, but he said, in effect if not verbatim, “This is not a game, this is not something you play at, this is not a hobby. This is your WORK. You should regard it with the dignity work deserves, and you should insist that everybody close to you respect it, too.”
That advice literally changed my life. It enabled me to look people in the eye when they made light of my writing – usually because they didn’t write and had no idea what writing means to those of us who do – and stare down their jokes. Miss Manners teaches us that a steady stare, a slight smile, and an apparent inability to see what’s funny is our best defense against inappropriate humor. An iron resistance to joining any laughter at the expense of one’s work plus a sense of humorabout oneself will dignify one’s work in pretty short order.