Hello Lilith! Thank
you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today! I read your blog about how “We Wander Far
From Home” and I must say, it was quite a journey, eh? Thank you for sharing! (if anyone would like to read about this
journey, here is Lilith’s link: http://lilithduvalier.weebly.com/blog/gearing-up-for-a-release-on-a-long-term-project)
Q) What tenacity dug into you to make you not give up on
this story?
I think what made me determined to finish this story was the
fact that I could keep coming back to it.
I understand that writing is more work than inspiration, but
I’m a big fan of the path of least resistance as a writer. If I’m working on a
project, and suddenly get excited about a new one, I’ll set the first project
aside and write the new one until the spark gets fanned out, then go back to
actually slogging on the first project. So at any given time, I have a primary
project, and then 3 to 10 Works in Progress. Works in Progress get divided into
two folders “Current Projects” and “Drafts”
“Current Projects” are things I’m actively working on.
Usually the story that I intend to have done within two months, and the two
stories I’m planning to work on after it.
But the “Drafts” folder is a dangerous place. Sometimes 20
pages that were rushed out in a fit of inspiration languish in the “Drafts”
folder for months without ever being opened again. Sometimes they get pulled up
and Frankenstieined together with other drafts until something totally
different gets moved back to the “Current Projects” folder. Stories from the
“Current Projects” folder have been banished to the “Drafts” folder when the
inspiration for them dried up. And every once in a blue moon, I’ll open up a
document in the “Drafts” folder, admit that I have no ideas for, or interest in
it anymore, and it’ll get dumped into the trash bin.
“We Wander Far From Home”, or as it used to be called “The
Western”, had it’s own folder and even though it never demanded a place in the
“Current Projects” folder and I published 10 other books between starting and
finishing it, it was always a story I could pull up and add something to. I
never opened it up without writing at least a couple of paragraphs. It’s the
only thing I’ve ever written that never got saved for the night without the
word count having gone up.
I guess it’s just been the one thing that was always “in
progress”, it just took way longer than average.
Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame
of mind?
No. I only have bad habits that I’m trying to break. I need
to stop being constantly distracted by Tumblr, I need to admit that I cannot
work with the TV on, and I need to be better about being really into the story
before I have a glass of wine while I write. I also need to take more nights
off.
At the moment I spend pretty much every night watching
Netflix and checking tumblr with a glass of wine on the table and a story open,
slowly dropping words into it. I would be much more effective if I just poured
some tea, listened to music and had a dedicated writing time a few days a week.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
I am hard at work on “A Long Hard Summer” and “Counting
Kisses” right now.
“A Long Hard Summer”
is a cute comedy about two counselors at an all boy’s summer bible camp who
spend the book, and the summer, desperately seeking a private place to have
sex, but keep being thwarted by work schedules, administrative supervision, and
the fact that the only even semi-private places on the camp grounds are where
the cooks smoke pot.
I’m trying some style experiments for “Counting Kisses”. It
might end up being a little weird. The essential plot is that two men, who have
been best friends since child hood, hit extreme financial crises at the same
time. They are so life-threateningly broke, that when a man at a bar offers
them money to screw each other on camera, they accept. But one of the
conditions is that they cannot kiss during filming. The story becomes about all the times they
haven’t kissed during their long and romantically charged friendship.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Intro
I
am very excited for “We Wander Far From Home”! It’s my first full length novel,
and I’m very proud of the way it combines a nuanced love story with an old
fashioned western adventure. I started this story in 2009 with the intention of
submitting it to an anthology call, but the deadline flew by before I figured
out how to finish it. I stuck it in a folder and forgot about it for a little
over a year. Then I started taking it out every few months, writing another
chapter here, doing some edits there and putting it away again. It didn’t
really come together until January this year and I’m thrilled to see it
published by Evernight!
Blurb
A
crack shot best gal, a former criminal lover, a sudden ejection from everything
he's ever known, and the faintest taste of freedom. That's what drives Will
Kearny out of the comfort of a normal life and out into the Nebraska wilderness. Soon, the sweet, quiet dairy
farmer from Minnesota is robbing stage coaches, knocking over
banks and running off into the mountains to celebrate in Henry Fitzpatrick's
arms. But winter's coming on, the stage coach routes are drying up, and
the law is onto them. Life on the edge is the only way Will and Henry can be
together, but life on the edge is short. Can forbidden love survive in a harsh
world?
Excerpt
He
shifted closer to Henry’s body under the covers and realized that they were
both naked. Had he really been so exhausted last night that he didn’t remember
undressing? Or possibly being undressed? He set a hand to Henry’s chest,
tracing a line down to Henry’s flat, red nipple. The contrasts of Henry were
astonishing. The hills and valleys of his chest and shoulders, the gentle
touches of his rough hands.
This
man was a criminal.
And
between him and Annie, they had made Will one, too.
Memories
sparked from last night. Henry’s hand wrapped around Will’s, tugging him
patiently into this room. Henry’s stubbled chin pressed to his face in an
affectionate good night kiss that Will had barely been conscious enough to
return.
So.
Sweet. Affectionate. Beautiful. His.
But
a criminal.
Well,
Will supposed, you couldn’t have everything. He pressed his body against
Henry’s, closing the small, cautious gap between them, and kissed the other
man. He slid his hands out of Henry’s and wrapped his arms around Henry’s back,
running his fingers over the ridges of muscle there.
Henry
began to kiss him back slowly, as though not quite woken from a dream, before
his loose grip tightened and his hands began to wander up Will’s body.
“Morning,”
Henry murmured.
“Afternoon,
actually, I think,” Will replied.
“Mhm,”
Henry responded disinterestedly as he resumed the kiss, sliding his tongue past
Will’s lips like walking through an open door. He took control of the kiss.
Eased his body on top of Will’s. Will sighed happily as he sunk down into the
feather mattress under Henry’s solid weight. Despite Annie’s assurances that
there were other men like him, Will hadn’t really let himself believe it until
the night Henry kissed him in the barn, only weeks ago.
The
way that Henry’s skin moved over Will’s, the heavy scent of him dominating
Will’s senses, made it easier for Will to concentrate on his rewards rather
than his sins.
Will
reached up to take Henry’s arm in his hand.
Henry
pulled away, caught Will’s hand and pushed it back down to the mattress.
“Shhhh…lie back.”
Will
watched as Henry’s hands ran over his chest. Down his stomach, palms flat and warm.
He traced his fingers down into the grooves between Will’s hips and his groin,
where the skin was soft and sensitive, unaccustomed to being touched.
Will
pushed his hips up against Henry’s hands, asking for more. He’d been ready back
in the cabin a few nights ago, he didn’t need all this careful touching.
Henry’s
fingers slid back up his chest, rubbing and pinching his nipples.
Will
felt his breathing getting heavier. His hips worked up against empty air. He
looked down between Henry’s legs and swallowed. Henry’s cock was standing
between his legs now, thick and flush and full.
And
out of reach.
“Look
at you,” Henry murmured, rolling the bud of Will’s nipple between his thumb and
forefinger, every touch making the nerves more sensitive.
The
sluggish warmth in Will’s belly started to coil, not urgent yet, but
threatening to become so. “Henry, please.”
Henry
grinned, and patted Will’s chest as though he was going to stop teasing. Then
he dropped his mouth down to Will’s chest and took a reddened nipple into his
mouth.
The
warmth in Will’s stomach tightened suddenly. The steady hum of arousal in his
body spiked. He dug his fingers into Henry’s shoulders and bucked his hips up
against nothing when the grip made Henry suck harder.
Will
reached for his cock while Henry rolled the bud between his teeth and flicked
his tongue over it. Henry caught Will’s hand and brought it back up to his
shoulders.
“Henry,
I don’t wanna wait no more,” Will moaned as Henry let his nipple go with a
loud, wet “pop.”
“Yeah,”
Henry said. His voice was heavy and rough and his eyes were dark with lust. His
gaze ran over Will’s body like another caress and Will shivered. “I won’t make
you.”
Will’s
breath caught.
Henry
moved off his thighs, arranging himself so that he was kneeling between Will’s
legs. He slipped his hands underneath Will’s knees, calloused hands tickling at
the sensitive skin underneath the joint. Will felt too exposed as Henry lifted
his feet up off the mattress and spread his legs wider, so wide that his toes
poked over either side of the mattress.
Henry
arched down, kissing Will. Will set his hands back to Henry’s shoulders,
letting himself stay open under Henry’s increasingly insistent tongue, kissing
back with everything he could muster while Henry turned the kiss dirty and
breathtaking. He finally settled his body down against Will’s, pressing his
rock hard cock into Will’s body, rubbing against him until Will moaned against
his lips.
“No
more interruptions. Door’s locked. Hell, I even jammed a chair under the
handle.” He dropped his face to Will’s neck, sucking at a tendon, then worrying
his teeth against it. “Even if the goddamn law comes knocking, even if they
break down the door, I’m gonna make you come before they cart us away.
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