TT: Interview with R.F. Long

Today I’d like to welcome fantasy writer RF Long to Textyladies.

Be sure to comment to let her know you were here. Enjoy!

Jane

~*~

Jane: Hi R.F. Tell us a little about you!

RFL: I’m a writer, a specialist librarian taking care of some rare and unusual books, a wife and mother of two, owner of a mad cat and I live in Ireland.

Jane: What genres do you write?

RFL: Mainly fantasy in a variety of forms: high/epic/heroic (whichever flavor you prefer) fantasy, fantasy romance, paranormal romance and urban fantasy. I also write some poetry and my short stories tend to flit around through various worlds including our own.

Jane: How long have you been writing?

RFL: To be honest, (forgive the cliché) as long as I can remember. Certainly when I was about 11. I had written a “novel” in three, highly illustrated copybooks taped together with sequins on the front. I used to draw in the margins all the time (and still do when I am trying to think). My first Holtlands stories stem from about 21 years ago (eek). They came back to me about 9 years ago when I was working in software programming. I think I needed a release. I really started to get serious about it in the last two years.

Jane: Tell us about your books

RFL: My stories (because I tend to see them that way) are fantasy adventures. Whenever I am writing I try to think “what would keep me reading?” and go from there. That said I’ve become a pain to get books for!  I love stories that capture me, pull me in and won’t let go until the end, those stories where you regret reaching the last page although at the same time you couldn’t leave without finding out what happened. That’s what I strive for.

Engaging characters, twists and turns, emotional involvement. I love fantasy because in it I can explore humankind at their most basic, their most desperate. Fantasy stories address fundamental human struggles (even when they don’t involve humans), good vs. evil, light against dark, heroes and monsters.

I’m fascinated by ancient mysteries, legends and how stories grow so many of my own feature this. For example ‘Carrying Keptara’, my story in the Hadley Rille Books’ anthology ‘Ruins Metropolis’, released earlier this year, concerns the struggle of the doomed race of Atlantis to cheat fate and how many world mythologies grew out of their actions. ‘Elements’, another short which appeared in Flashing Swords’ Summer Special, 2008, explored Arthurian myth in a Celtic style, drawing on the Welsh myths of the Mabinogian rather than the French romances.

And The Wrecker’s Daughter, to appear in the Fall edition of Ocean Magazine this year, is the story of a selkie’s daughter, left behind with her abusive family, who yearns for love and the sea.

Jane: Do you have any new releases, or any books about to be released?

RFL: ‘The Wolf’s Sister: a tale of the Holtlands’ is coming out on 11th November from Samhain Publishing. This novella is an early Holtlands story, telling of Jeren, Scion of Jern, the lady of River Holt and her lover, Shan’ith Al’Fallion, a member of the mysterious Fey’na race. The book trailer for ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ can be found here.

As Jeren flees her brother’s increasing insanity, she is saved by Shan, only to discover that her brother murdered Shan’s sister, and Shan wants only one thing: revenge. [Link: http://samhainpublishing.com/coming/the-wolfs-sister]

Then February 24th, 2009, a full length novel set in the same world, ‘The Scroll Thief: a Tale of Ithian’ will also be released from Samhain in which romance, tragedy, and adventure blend in a tale of a magical land on the brink of war, and a group of people who, by putting their lives, and their hearts, on the line, have the opportunity to finally set things right. But at a terrible cost…. The Scroll Thief will also be released in print about ten months later and I think I might hyperventilate until I fall over when that day comes around. Both of these are epic fantasy stories with strong elements of romance, embodying everything I love in a story.

Jane: Tell us about your WIPs, all of which sound amazing, by the way!

RFL: I tend to have a number of WIPs on the go at any one time. In one sense it’s a bad habit, but then again, since I have a few that only speak to me periodically, it’s probably a good idea. It means I usually have something else to turn to.

‘Moy Tura Echoes’ is a bit of a torture. I honestly think its one of the best things I’ve ever written, but it comes in fits and starts so I have to hang on until it’s ready to cooperate.

‘Soul Fire’ is a paranormal romance about a Sidhe Prince trapped in the mortal world who falls in love with the woman holding the key to his return home. Rowan and her Prince Daire also have to deal with his treacherous former lover, Aoife. I drew heavily on Irish folklore for this story and it’s very dear to my heart. *Update: Soul fire has been sold to Samhain and will be releasing in July, 2009 with print release about ten months after ebook release.

I’m also working on a sequel to ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ called ‘The Wolf’s Mate’ which focuses on the continuing love and adventures of Shan and Jeren. And then there are a few short stories as well!

Jane: Do you have a writing schedule you stick with?

RFL: I’m not incredibly strict, though I try to write every evening. I work full time and have two kids so time is understandably tight. Getting a laptop of my own and banning the rest of the family from it was probably the best move I have made as it means I can sit on the sofa and work, leaving the family PC free.

Depending on the story, the first draft is often in long hand, in which case I need a really good quality spiral-bound A4 notepad and a nice pen (preferably nibbed). But others are just coming out so fast I have to type. Writing longhand helps me mull things over, tease the story out (and illustrate the margins with my scrawls). And I need noise. If it’s quiet, I can’t work, so the t.v. or music is usually on. I love listening to film soundtracks and Celtic music.

Jane: What was it like for you when you got your first contract?

RFL: When I got the contract for ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ I was in work. I work in a specialized library and I’m usually on my own, so there was a fair amount of running around and whooping.

Then I rang my husband. Then I whooped some more. I listened to a Natasha Beddingfield CD on the way home and burst into tears while singing along to ‘Unwritten’ (not a good idea on a motorway!).

When I heard about ‘The Scroll Thief’, especially the part about it coming out in print, I was at home with my husband. It was about 11pm here, we’d already shared some wine that evening, so there was a combination of hysterical laughter, hugging, jumping up and down and floods of tears (from me).

Did I mention that I’m a bit emotional?

Jane: Do you ever get writer’s block? If so, what helps you get past it?

RFL: Quite simply, I put aside whatever WIP is giving me the problem and move on to something else. Anything else. If that doesn’t work I’ll try to do something else creative. I’m playing with book trailers these days and just about have one ready for ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ as I write. [Hopefully I can give you a link for it when it’s done]. In a sense I am lucky that I am so busy – I don’t have a lot of time to write, let alone to have writer’s block!

Jane: Walk us through one of your typical days

RFL: It starts early which is a pain because I am not a morning person. The kids however most definitely are, so they arrive in to jump on us by about 6.30 am. The alarm goes off at 7am and we then have the chaotic rush that is breakfast and getting two zombified adults, a hyper seven year old and his slightly less hyper four year old sister out of the door.

My husband does the morning school run so I go straight to work. Thankfully the library is mostly silent so I make myself a cup of tea and try to wake up. I work from about 8.30 to 4.30 (library work, lots of sushing, tutting and wearing my glasses at the end of my nose – there’s a law in librarianship requiring this) and then go to pick up the children.

Choas and havoc ensues until bedtime. And then I cook dinner for my husband and myself. Em… this isn’t really sounding like a writer’s day, is it? Anyway, usually between 8 and 9pm I can write. I normally have my laptop on the kitchen counter as well during the chaos, havoc and dinner cooking though so that’s my internet email etc time.

I normally go to bed around 10pm (because I’m exhausted) and then I write longhand in bed (if I don’t fall asleep right away). Sometimes I try to read. Honest. At weekends, I write in the morning or have a lie in (we take it in turns – have I mentioned that my husband is my hero in everything?)

Jane: Who are your publishers?

RFL: Samhain Publishing for ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ and ‘The Scroll Thief’. Hadley Rille Books for ‘Carrying Keptara’ in the ‘Ruins Metropolis’ anthology and Ocean Magazine for ‘The Wrecker’s Daughter’ – they are wonderful to work with and I have learned so much from all of them.

Jane: Do you do anything special when you’re writing, like listen to music, scented candles, etc.?

RFL: Just noise. Lots of noise. If music I prefer either movie soundtracks(I really love the recent soundtracks for ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Sinbad’) or Celtic music – from the likes of Lorenna McKenna to my all time Celtic-Rock glammer, Horslips. When it comes to ‘Moy Tura Echoes’, Horslips-‘The Book of Invasions’ is essentially the soundtrack and the song ‘King of Morning, Queen of Day’ makes me cry. (Yes, I have mentioned that I am emotional!)

Jane: I know you also write poetry. Can you tell us a little about your poems?

RFL: I find the difference between poetry and prose fascinating. When writing fiction I tend to plan things out – I get an idea for a story, I build on it, I research, I might plot (depends on the story), but it takes a while before I can write it down.

With a poem a phrase gets stuck in my mind, a refrain or a few words and after a while it starts to feel like I have to get it down on paper before I go nuts. That said, I have had some short stories like that, where the voice of the main character just wouldn’t go away.

Poetry comes as a rush of words and sounds, a release of something I have got to get down on paper and out of myself. I don’t plan poetry. I can’t write it on demand. My poems usually have a great deal of emotion and personal significance behind them.

Jane: Give us five random facts about RF Long

RFL:
I grew up sailing small boats.
I played Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz on stage twice.
I’ve seen a ghost (more than one actually).
I’m addicted to digital photography and I love my camera.
I have a cat who thinks he’s a dog.

Jane: I think you should tell us more about your ghost sightings soon! What are your writing goals for the future?

RFL: Well, the sequels to ‘The Wolf’s Sister’ take priority. I’m planning two which I think will cover the full arc of Jeren and Shan’s story. I’d also like to return to some of my original Holtlands stories. There are some characters there that I will always be in love with and just cannot forget. Bareda Merlot from ‘The Scroll Thief’ will definitely make a reappearance. I have some other ideas in the offing, some of which tie to things already written like ‘Soul Fire’, some of which are all new. Oh, and finish Moy Tura Echoes of course. One day.

Jane: Is there anything you’d like to add?

RFL: I just wanted to say thank you so much for having me here today. I’ve really enjoyed the questions. And I’d like to invite your readers to come and check out my website (www.rflong.com) or find me on livejournal (as rflong). I hope you enjoy the stories and find the people in them as fascinating as I do.

Jane: Thank you, RF! It was a pleasure to have you.

~*~

Excerpt of The Wolf’s Sister

Mina was dead. Mina Roh, her guardian, who had watched over her all her life. It left a hollow place inside her, a place she never imagined could be emptied so easily.

“Who are you?” Jeren asked.

“Shan,” he told her. “You can call me Shan.”

She shivered, sick with loss. “They were all dead? You’re certain? I travelled with a woman, a lady…”

“Your companion broke her neck, little one, when your carriage left the road.” Her eyes were unaccustomed to darkness, and it hid him from her. It would have been easy to start a fire, but he hadn’t done so. Why?

Oh, but what did it matter now? Mina was dead.

She pulled her arms closer around her chest. “She…she’s dead. You’re sure?” In her own voice she heard the desperation of a child.

“Yes,” he replied simply. “Had I left you there, you would have joined her. Men were coming to kill any survivors.”

Her body tensed. Maldrine’s men? Who else would dare? Suddenly she found herself eager to hear of vengeance. “Did you kill them? Are they dead?”

“No,” he said. “I took you and left. Thus, we are both alive. Anala thought I was a fool to get involved.” The timbre of his voice resonated through her, tainted with pain. That wasn’t a good sign, Jeren thought. It wasn’t good at all. He’d been wounded saving her. And yet, he hadn’t saved the others. Mina was dead. She shook aside her concern for his obvious pain as an irritant in the way of her anger.

“You should have killed them. You should have stayed like a man and fought.”

He wasn’t annoyed. He seemed more curious than anything else. “For what purpose? To defend a pile of corpses?”

“For honour…”

“You’re young to speak of death in such a way. There’s no honour in fighting without reason. Why do they want you dead?”

Jeren retreated into herself, recoiling without moving. How could she tell him the truth? The best scenario would be that he would hold her hostage. River Holt would ruin itself in order to win back Lord Gilliad’s little sister. Gilliad wouldn’t even have to enforce the collection of the ransom.

“I…I’m Jeren…” she began slowly. When he gave no reaction, she drew in a wavering breath. If he didn’t recognise the name, there might be a chance. Although she’d always been taught not to lie, she now had no choice. But could she look into the shadows where he nestled and spin falsehoods to the man who had saved her? At least she didn’t have to look into his face, his eyes. That would be impossible. She hung her head and continued, “I’m servant to the Lady of River Holt, Lord Gilliad’s sister. She was with me, in the carriage…”

He surged forwards as if to leap to his feet, but then fell back, with a gasp of pain. His anger came out in his voice. “She looked nothing like him!”

Jeren shied back again. He moved so fast, even wounded, and his voice held such hatred. She nodded slowly, biting down on her lower lip. “You know Lord Gilliad?”

Of course he did. There could be no other explanation for that reaction.

The seed of madness had lurked within Gilliad all his life. Even as a boy, her brother had cared for nothing but his own pleasures, and everyone had quickly learned to deny him nothing. Except for Jeren and their father. Her father had recognised the trait and sought to curb it. He had failed, as she had failed.

But who would believe her if she told? The River Holters’ loyalty to the Scion of Jern was as much a part of them as their skin. Shan must have seen it firsthand to react in such a way.

“I know he’s a curse to the world,” said Shan, “as are all True Blood. The magic in their veins makes them serpent-born.”

Gods, was that what he thought of them? She closed her eyes, thinking of her gentle father and the way he had held her, spun her around until she was dizzy and laughing. The image shifted in her mind, to Gilliad watching her with jealous eyes, to Gilliad as he had become, his grip on her arms when he had turned her around to face Maldrine. How wrong was Shan, if of all her family, he only knew Gilliad?

Jeren’s voice cracked as she spoke, deadened with exhaustion, though she took care with her words. “He’s the Lord of River Holt now. His sister was to marry the Lord of Grey Holt’s nephew. But Gilliad became reluctant…recently his behaviour…” She struggled to find a polite way of saying Gilliad was spiralling towards madness. It was too hard to express that, even to one who clearly hated her brother. After all, she was a River Holter too.

“Small group for a wedding party, wasn’t it?” he asked. His voice sounded sharper, as if he sensed the further concealment within the lie. She glanced away, hiding her secrets. However he took her silence, she didn’t know, but he conceded, his voice gentling. “Jeren, I wasn’t lying when I said you should rest. In the morning, you can decide what to do.”

Shan retreated further into darkest part of the cave. Jeren closed her eyes and closed off the world outside. The last thing she wanted to do was dwell on her own situation, to think about Gilliad and Maldrine, or the deaths of her only friends. She hated lying to Shan, though she could not say why. Perhaps, if he knew her true identity…

No. Now was not the time to think on such things. Instead, she focused on Shan and, as she always did when distressed, she allowed the magical faculties she inherited from her father to surge to life, sensing him out, feeling what he felt.

Like a firefly in the darkness, Shan’s body filled with shimmering light. His emotions were laid clear to her. Unused to pain, or to bearing physical damage, he would endure it, but deep down, he was afraid. And that was also alien to him.

“You’re hurt.” She struggled to bring her abilities under tighter control. Opening her eyes, she could almost see him now. Sunrise started to filter in from the outside. She welcomed its arrival at last. She longed for a new day to put the horror of the last one behind her, for warmth and light to drown the shadows clinging to her heart. “Let me help, Shan. I studied with the Holt’s healers and helped them on a number of cases.”

“You’re a healer now?” He shuffled farther away from her.

“What are you so afraid of?” she persisted.

His voice came out harsh with false bravado. “I’m afraid of nothing, least of all you.”

“Then why hide?”

Sunlight crept through the cave mouth. Anala scrambled to her feet at their raised voices, her claws scratching at the bare stone. The owl cried out in alarm at the sudden movement. Light stretched across the floor, illuminating his finely crafted, well-worn boots of soft grey leather. She could see the dried blood caked on his calf and fresh blood staining the soft fabric around the arrow shaft. Its broken stub projected like a jagged tooth.

Jeren stilled as the sun revealed yet more of him. He wore a tunic of the same grey-white suede. Even his skin was pale. His fingers, long and elegant, curled helplessly at his side.

Jeren’s jaw fell open. A cry of alarm came stillborn to her lips as she looked on skin as fair as one snow-touched, the veins a tracery of blue, like lines in marble. His white-blonde hair was finely braided, each strand no thicker than a child’s bracelet. His silver eyes slanted beyond those of a human and his long lashes were the same white gold. Paler than an albino, as handsome as the images of her god, this Fair One warrior had saved her life. He was younger than Ha’ledren, broader in the shoulders, but just as pale and beautiful, heart-wrenchingly handsome—and just as unapproachable.

The image of what her brother had done to the captive warrior burst like wildfire in her brain—his ruined face, the snarl of his mouth, the monster behind just such an austere mask of perfection.

“Jeren,” Shan whispered. In his musical voice she could now hear more than pain, she could also detect the first hint of panic. “Jeren, remember they’re close…little one, please…”

She couldn’t help herself. His endearment was the final straw.

Her scream pierced the spell, and she burst from the cave, running as fast as her exhausted body would allow.

Suddenly men were running towards her. The primal part of her soared with relief before she recalled why she had been hiding.

They weren’t going to help her…

~*~

R.F. Long’s Links:

Website

Blogspot Blog

Live Journal Blog

Tags: Interview, R.F. Long, romance, The Wolf's Sister, TT