More About the Author.
As visitors will see, Patricia conducts interviews of other authors and posts them on this website. It only seemed fair that she should try to answer her own questions. (Don't you think?) So, here is more information:
1. What character most surprised you in your work and why?
There were so many surprises in Oathtaker, that it is hard to know where to begin to answer this question. First, there was the surprise that it was Mara and Dixon’s story that I would tell. When I started writing Oathtaker, I thought that the beginning chapter was the introduction or prologue. Instead, the characters insisted that I stick with them—and so, I did—and I’m glad that I did. They had a story worth telling!
Fidel and Leala—both of whose names mean “faithful” were a surprise in the way they bickered amongst themselves. I didn’t even know they knew one another until their story started to unfold.
Jabari/Jerrett may well have been the most surprising of the characters. I didn’t know what Jabari/Jerrett was until he revealed his true identity to Velia. I remember thinking, “no way!” as that portion of the story came tripping off my fingertips . . .
I was also surprised when Lilith was encountered by Mara. I didn’t know that what happened to her (but, of course, I can’t say what that was here—because that would be telling!) was going to happen—until it did. It turned out to be the “proof” that others needed.
Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was Velia. I liked her spunk—like when she said to the guard something like: “So, let me get this straight. If you let me go, Lilith will kill you. If you don’t let me go, I will kill you. I rather like the sounds of that.”
2. Was there anything else in your work that flowed from the tips of your fingers without your having been aware that it was coming? How did you react? Did it change the story you thought you were going to tell?
Yes! (And again, I say “YES!”) There were so many things I didn’t see coming. I didn’t know Dixon knew the barmaids at the Clandest Inn. I didn’t know what was his relationship to Celeste. I didn’t know that Nina and Jules would have eyes for one another. I didn’t know that it was Ezra who would be the one to recognize what was happening with Dixon and Mara and that he would be the one to caution Dixon. I didn’t know that Erin would be so insightful as to be able to say to Ginny, “I thought that you were only cross-eyed, but now, I see that in truth, you are blind.” But, the most fun for me was with a character that showed up for the hearing in the second to the last chapter. I didn’t know that that character was going to be there until Mara looked up to see who was was entering the room. I was as surprised as Mara to find that it was—oh, but that would be telling!—you’ll have to read Oathtaker to find out who surprised me!
3. What "other world" (which could be a time, place, or fantasy place) created in any book you've written or read is the world you would most like to visit and why?
This could take some real thinking. I guess it would depend in part on how long I got to stay there—or had to stay there. If for a short time, I would love to see Charles Dickens’s London. Or, I would love to meet Victor Hugo’s Jean Valjean. Could he possibly be as self-sacrificing as he is made out to be? Just think of all the interesting characters you might happen along in Lord of the Rings, or in The Hobbit! How about spending a day at Hogwarts? So many, many times/places to consider!
4. What work created by someone else do you most wish you had written yourself, and why?
This is strangely easy for me, provided that I stick with contemporary works. I positively adore Terry Goodkind. I think he is utter genius. What he created in the Sword of the Truth series is, in my estimation, unmatched. It was Terry Goodkind that made me take up writing. I read the Sword of the Truth series (which runs I would estimate at about 8000 pages) about four times, back to back. I kept exclaiming, “How did he do that!” or “Did he know in book one that some little fact told there would be so crucial in book five or six (or whatever it was)?” When I started writing myself, I named Dixon after Goodkind’s main character, Richard. I don’t like the name Richard, but it was my own little tribute to the person I regard as the master of modern day fantasy. I also started writing because once I’d read Goodkind, I had such difficulty finding things that grabbed me and that would not let me go. In my frustration and complaining, I decided I had to discover for myself how difficult it was. I did discover—it is immensely difficult to keep so many balls up in the air at once! But, it can be done and Oathtaker is my answer to that challenge that I created for myself.
5. What would you consider the five best works you've ever read and why do you rank them amongst the best?
I have to go back to the classics for most of these. The first is without a doubt, Les Miserables. Victor Hugo is chief among writers who have told stories of self-sacrifice. But, it is not just the story with Hugo. It is his words. They are pure artistry. I love to just open Les Miserables and find a description of a person, for example. Hugo can tell you all you need to know about that character by describing the things the character has experienced or his surrounds. Take Bishop Myriel, for example—a man so selfless that he gave ninety percent and kept ten. Or, how about the street urchin boy, Gavroche. Find the passage that describes him. Or, consider how you learn all you need to know about Javert through Hugo’s discussion of his family and origins. Poetry, all.
Victor Hugo takes the second spot also, with The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Whatever else others might think the story is about, to me it is a story about the power of the spoken word. When you curse and curse and curse someone (Sister Gudule of Esmerelda), some day that curse may just come about. Woe be to you if it turns out that the person cursed is the wrong one!
In the third spot, I have to list all things Charles Dickens. It took me some time to figure him out, but when I did I immersed myself in his works. The stories are completely irrelevant to me. All that matters to me is the way he describes people, places, and things. Who can forget the aunt in Little Dorrit that was “left” to a young man? (Or was it his grieving widow?) You remember! She wore a yellow wig “slightly askew” upon her head. Who can read the first chapters of Great Expectations and not howl in laughter? I read it to my teen girls out loud and laughed so hard that tears rolled down. I simply could not stop. Who can read of Miss Havisham and not feel they’ve met her? And so on, and so on, and so on. . . .
The fourth place could go to so many works, that it is hard for me to pick a single one, but one that does come to mind just now is Tess of d’Ubervilles. I can’t say why except that Thomas Hardy’s characters are just so tragic—and Tess not the least among them. The happenstance of a note not delivered in the manner anticipated can change an entire future. . . . Or, how about Edith Wharton’s Lily Bart in The House of Mirth? Another tragic character is she.
Finally, I have to put something more modern on the list, so I must go with Terry Goodkind. My favorites in the Sword of the Truth series were Wizard’s First Rule, Faith of the Fallen, and Confessor. (“He’s going to start a war!”) (Did I happen to mention that I adore Goodkind?)
6. What do you do when you pick up a work that does not entertain you? Do you read to the bitter end? Or do you bow out early?
I admit it. I will almost always hang on to the bitter end. Case in point: War and Peace. I’ve read a lot of Russian literature, but War and Peace was really tough going. I like Dostoyevsky, and in particular, I enjoyed Crime and Punishment. I liked The Brothers Karamazov (I guess), and The Idiot. I found beauty in Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. (I even knew an "Anna" in real life who died in an almost identical manner.) But War and Peace was a long (LONG!) and difficult read. If that doesn’t convince you (that I read things to the bitter end), how about Moby Dick? Yes, I read it. I hated it, but I read it. . . .
7. Who is your favorite heroic character and in what way are you like him or her?
Man, these questions really are hard! Who thought them up? Oh yeah—that was me! Wow. Who is my favorite heroic character? Truly, I’ll have to think on this one. Maybe I’ll come back some day and fill in this blank!
8. Who is your favorite villain--and in what way are you like him or her?
Oddly, this seems easier! I guess because it’s easier to find fault in oneself than to find glory. Even so, for now I’ll have to pass on this one and see if I can’t fill in this blank some other day. . . .
9. What one question have you always wished an interviewer would ask you that you have not been asked, and what is your answer to that question? And what one question do you most dread an interviewer asking you--and what is your answer to that question?
As I’m new to this, there isn’t a question that I’ve wanted to be asked but have not. I suppose the one question I would most like to be asked would be—what made me decide to write Oathtaker? The answer is that I started writing because I knew my children were seeing me whine about how disappointed I was in trying to find something that grabbed my attention. Eventually, I realized how wrong that was and told them that I would try myself. If I could do it—I could complain. If not—I would shut up. Well, I did it—but even so, I’ve given up on most of the complaining—because I have discovered how truly difficult it is and because I’ve come to appreciate that any work is an enormous labor. I have a new respect for those willing to undertake it.
What one question would I most like not to be asked? Well, while answering all of these questions may tell you a great deal about me, they really are not that personal. I like my privacy. I only share with others what I am willing to let everyone know. So, if the question was personal, I probably wouldn’t answer it—unless it was something I didn’t mind the whole world knowing.
10. What one lesson, theme, or principle did you most want others to take from your work?
The lesson or theme of Oathtaker is that it matters what you say you will do. It matters that you follow through on your word. It matters that others are watching you, wondering if what you tell them is something upon which they can rely. You should not speak lightly. But once you’ve spoken, it is honorable to see through on your word.
1. What character most surprised you in your work and why?
There were so many surprises in Oathtaker, that it is hard to know where to begin to answer this question. First, there was the surprise that it was Mara and Dixon’s story that I would tell. When I started writing Oathtaker, I thought that the beginning chapter was the introduction or prologue. Instead, the characters insisted that I stick with them—and so, I did—and I’m glad that I did. They had a story worth telling!
Fidel and Leala—both of whose names mean “faithful” were a surprise in the way they bickered amongst themselves. I didn’t even know they knew one another until their story started to unfold.
Jabari/Jerrett may well have been the most surprising of the characters. I didn’t know what Jabari/Jerrett was until he revealed his true identity to Velia. I remember thinking, “no way!” as that portion of the story came tripping off my fingertips . . .
I was also surprised when Lilith was encountered by Mara. I didn’t know that what happened to her (but, of course, I can’t say what that was here—because that would be telling!) was going to happen—until it did. It turned out to be the “proof” that others needed.
Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was Velia. I liked her spunk—like when she said to the guard something like: “So, let me get this straight. If you let me go, Lilith will kill you. If you don’t let me go, I will kill you. I rather like the sounds of that.”
2. Was there anything else in your work that flowed from the tips of your fingers without your having been aware that it was coming? How did you react? Did it change the story you thought you were going to tell?
Yes! (And again, I say “YES!”) There were so many things I didn’t see coming. I didn’t know Dixon knew the barmaids at the Clandest Inn. I didn’t know what was his relationship to Celeste. I didn’t know that Nina and Jules would have eyes for one another. I didn’t know that it was Ezra who would be the one to recognize what was happening with Dixon and Mara and that he would be the one to caution Dixon. I didn’t know that Erin would be so insightful as to be able to say to Ginny, “I thought that you were only cross-eyed, but now, I see that in truth, you are blind.” But, the most fun for me was with a character that showed up for the hearing in the second to the last chapter. I didn’t know that that character was going to be there until Mara looked up to see who was was entering the room. I was as surprised as Mara to find that it was—oh, but that would be telling!—you’ll have to read Oathtaker to find out who surprised me!
3. What "other world" (which could be a time, place, or fantasy place) created in any book you've written or read is the world you would most like to visit and why?
This could take some real thinking. I guess it would depend in part on how long I got to stay there—or had to stay there. If for a short time, I would love to see Charles Dickens’s London. Or, I would love to meet Victor Hugo’s Jean Valjean. Could he possibly be as self-sacrificing as he is made out to be? Just think of all the interesting characters you might happen along in Lord of the Rings, or in The Hobbit! How about spending a day at Hogwarts? So many, many times/places to consider!
4. What work created by someone else do you most wish you had written yourself, and why?
This is strangely easy for me, provided that I stick with contemporary works. I positively adore Terry Goodkind. I think he is utter genius. What he created in the Sword of the Truth series is, in my estimation, unmatched. It was Terry Goodkind that made me take up writing. I read the Sword of the Truth series (which runs I would estimate at about 8000 pages) about four times, back to back. I kept exclaiming, “How did he do that!” or “Did he know in book one that some little fact told there would be so crucial in book five or six (or whatever it was)?” When I started writing myself, I named Dixon after Goodkind’s main character, Richard. I don’t like the name Richard, but it was my own little tribute to the person I regard as the master of modern day fantasy. I also started writing because once I’d read Goodkind, I had such difficulty finding things that grabbed me and that would not let me go. In my frustration and complaining, I decided I had to discover for myself how difficult it was. I did discover—it is immensely difficult to keep so many balls up in the air at once! But, it can be done and Oathtaker is my answer to that challenge that I created for myself.
5. What would you consider the five best works you've ever read and why do you rank them amongst the best?
I have to go back to the classics for most of these. The first is without a doubt, Les Miserables. Victor Hugo is chief among writers who have told stories of self-sacrifice. But, it is not just the story with Hugo. It is his words. They are pure artistry. I love to just open Les Miserables and find a description of a person, for example. Hugo can tell you all you need to know about that character by describing the things the character has experienced or his surrounds. Take Bishop Myriel, for example—a man so selfless that he gave ninety percent and kept ten. Or, how about the street urchin boy, Gavroche. Find the passage that describes him. Or, consider how you learn all you need to know about Javert through Hugo’s discussion of his family and origins. Poetry, all.
Victor Hugo takes the second spot also, with The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Whatever else others might think the story is about, to me it is a story about the power of the spoken word. When you curse and curse and curse someone (Sister Gudule of Esmerelda), some day that curse may just come about. Woe be to you if it turns out that the person cursed is the wrong one!
In the third spot, I have to list all things Charles Dickens. It took me some time to figure him out, but when I did I immersed myself in his works. The stories are completely irrelevant to me. All that matters to me is the way he describes people, places, and things. Who can forget the aunt in Little Dorrit that was “left” to a young man? (Or was it his grieving widow?) You remember! She wore a yellow wig “slightly askew” upon her head. Who can read the first chapters of Great Expectations and not howl in laughter? I read it to my teen girls out loud and laughed so hard that tears rolled down. I simply could not stop. Who can read of Miss Havisham and not feel they’ve met her? And so on, and so on, and so on. . . .
The fourth place could go to so many works, that it is hard for me to pick a single one, but one that does come to mind just now is Tess of d’Ubervilles. I can’t say why except that Thomas Hardy’s characters are just so tragic—and Tess not the least among them. The happenstance of a note not delivered in the manner anticipated can change an entire future. . . . Or, how about Edith Wharton’s Lily Bart in The House of Mirth? Another tragic character is she.
Finally, I have to put something more modern on the list, so I must go with Terry Goodkind. My favorites in the Sword of the Truth series were Wizard’s First Rule, Faith of the Fallen, and Confessor. (“He’s going to start a war!”) (Did I happen to mention that I adore Goodkind?)
6. What do you do when you pick up a work that does not entertain you? Do you read to the bitter end? Or do you bow out early?
I admit it. I will almost always hang on to the bitter end. Case in point: War and Peace. I’ve read a lot of Russian literature, but War and Peace was really tough going. I like Dostoyevsky, and in particular, I enjoyed Crime and Punishment. I liked The Brothers Karamazov (I guess), and The Idiot. I found beauty in Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. (I even knew an "Anna" in real life who died in an almost identical manner.) But War and Peace was a long (LONG!) and difficult read. If that doesn’t convince you (that I read things to the bitter end), how about Moby Dick? Yes, I read it. I hated it, but I read it. . . .
7. Who is your favorite heroic character and in what way are you like him or her?
Man, these questions really are hard! Who thought them up? Oh yeah—that was me! Wow. Who is my favorite heroic character? Truly, I’ll have to think on this one. Maybe I’ll come back some day and fill in this blank!
8. Who is your favorite villain--and in what way are you like him or her?
Oddly, this seems easier! I guess because it’s easier to find fault in oneself than to find glory. Even so, for now I’ll have to pass on this one and see if I can’t fill in this blank some other day. . . .
9. What one question have you always wished an interviewer would ask you that you have not been asked, and what is your answer to that question? And what one question do you most dread an interviewer asking you--and what is your answer to that question?
As I’m new to this, there isn’t a question that I’ve wanted to be asked but have not. I suppose the one question I would most like to be asked would be—what made me decide to write Oathtaker? The answer is that I started writing because I knew my children were seeing me whine about how disappointed I was in trying to find something that grabbed my attention. Eventually, I realized how wrong that was and told them that I would try myself. If I could do it—I could complain. If not—I would shut up. Well, I did it—but even so, I’ve given up on most of the complaining—because I have discovered how truly difficult it is and because I’ve come to appreciate that any work is an enormous labor. I have a new respect for those willing to undertake it.
What one question would I most like not to be asked? Well, while answering all of these questions may tell you a great deal about me, they really are not that personal. I like my privacy. I only share with others what I am willing to let everyone know. So, if the question was personal, I probably wouldn’t answer it—unless it was something I didn’t mind the whole world knowing.
10. What one lesson, theme, or principle did you most want others to take from your work?
The lesson or theme of Oathtaker is that it matters what you say you will do. It matters that you follow through on your word. It matters that others are watching you, wondering if what you tell them is something upon which they can rely. You should not speak lightly. But once you’ve spoken, it is honorable to see through on your word.
