What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like the least? I love being creative and to hold a book that you've written in your hand is such a rush. My least favorite thing I like about writing is the time it takes to go from starting a book to having it published.
How do you think your life experiences have prepared you for writing? I worked for 30 years in the Human Services field. In that job, I learned how to be very organized and I think that spilled over into my writing. It helps with efficiency.
Have you ever felt as if you were being dictated to while you wrote a book--as if the words came of their own accord? If yes, which book did that happen with? I think in every book I've written, the characters eventually take over their own words and that's a good feeling when it happens.
You’ve written seven novels and are working on a the eighth novel. What’s your favorite time management tip? Again, being organized has been my key. I also try to have a writing schedule so I know when it's time, I sit down and get to work.
Are you a plotter or a pantser, i.e., do you outline your books ahead of time or are you an “organic” writer? I'm a little of both. I always start out with a paraphrased outline of what I want to happen in the first few chapters, but by the time I get to Chapter three or four, I'm writing from the seat of my pants then.
If you had one take away piece of advice for authors, what would it be? Research the publishing industry. By that, I mean if you're going to go with a traditional or small press to publish your book, research them. Make sure they publish the type of book you're writing and that your submission meets their requirements. If you're going to self-publish, know that you're probably going to need an editor, someone to format your book, and someone to make the book cover.
Did music help you find your muse with this book? If yes, which song did you find yourself going back to over and over again as you wrote? I don't particular listen to music when I write. I do need noise in the room, but it might be the television going in the background, or maybe the radio, but nothing specific.
Tell me more about Her Bluegrass Beau.
Bookstore owner, Karri Taylor, needed to get away from her former boyfriend in California. She couldn't think of a better time than now to visit the Kentucky farm she inherited from her great-aunt. She desperately wanted to see it once more before selling it to finalize the estate. When she arrives, she didn't expect the hospitality of the handsome neighbor or how hard it would be to leave him to go back to California.
How about an excerpt from Her Bleugrass Beau?
The next morning, she woke up thinking she heard a noise. There it was again. Someone was pounding on the front door. Still dark outside, she looked at her watch that showed seven o'clock local time. She quickly got out of bed, grabbed her robe and headed down the stairs to the door. Before opening it, she looked around for something to protect herself. She spotted an umbrella behind the door and picked it up. It would have to do.She turned the porch light on and moved the
curtain on the door aside to see who was waking her up at such an early hour. It was four a.m. in California.
Standing on the other side of the door was Jake, the neighbor she met last night. "Good morning,” his frosty breath floated upward as he spoke.
"What do you want?" she said, still not opening the door.
"I brought you some coffee and biscuits with sorghum. Can I come in? It's kind of cold out here."
Karri looked up at the big round thermometer that hung from the porch roof and saw the temperature was nineteen degrees. The thought of that hot coffee sounded too good to pass up, especially since her bare feet were freezing. She opened the door to let Jake inside and pulled her light robe around her. She shivered when the cold air hit her skin.
"Thanks. The cold was beginning to make it through my clothes." He immediately started walking toward the kitchen. He held a thermos in one hand and a pie tin with aluminum foil over it. More rudeness, she thought. She put the umbrella back and followed him to the kitchen.
"I figured you didn't have any food here and would be hungry for breakfast. I fixed me some biscuits this morning and thought I'd bring some back to you." He turned on the oven and uncovered the pie tin of biscuits. From one coat pocket, he sat a glass jar of brown syrupy looking substance on the table and then from the other pocket, he took out a small piece of aluminum foil. When he unfolded it, she saw it had butter inside.
"You think of everything, don't you?"
"I try. Why don't get a couple plates and coffee cups for us. I only brought some sugar, I hope you don't use cream?" He took a plastic zipper bag of sugar out of the same pocket that had held the butter.
"Sugar is fine." She went to the cabinet and got some plates and cups. After rinsing and drying them, she brought them to the table. Jake got silverware from one of the drawers and placed them on the table.
He sure knows his way around this kitchen, she thought. As he poured her a cup of coffee, she thought she might be salivating. She added two sugars to her cup and took a long drink before sitting down.
Buy Links:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2gxSzii
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2y34M9M
Books-a-Million: http://bit.ly/2h1ii2N
Her Bluegrass Beau will be available on Smashwords, iTunes, and Kobo soon.
Website Links:
Website: http://CarolPre.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCarolPreflatish
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/CarolPreflatish
Carol, thank you so much for being with us here today. I know my readers will enjoy your work and your interview. Thank you so much for hosting me today.
Looking forward to reading this, Carol! Wonderful interview:)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Molly.
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