Tag Archives: fantasy

An Evening With The Twins

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Hello dear friends! Stephanie over at Moonrise Book Review was incredibly generous and invited me to write this character interview for her collection! The interview has gone live as of tonight (here), and I’d love to share it with you (below)!!

In a few seconds, you’ll be meeting several characters. Do not be deceived. While this might seem like an interview about Eiry Callas (our tragic Hero), it’s not. This is a character interview of Gavin and Galen Callas (The Twins). Who are they? They are post-modern Greek deities, underworld twin-gods who’ve seamlessly incorporated themselves into the human world. What motivates them? Chaos. While they could sit down and answer all your questions patiently, they’d rather not. You can discover so much more about a person in an hour of play than you can in a year of conversation… or so some guy named Plato once said.

My approach to these interviews is to always let the characters speak for themselves, so you’ll be reading an interview scene that exists somewhere outside the timeline of the novel. The scene takes place in Eira, the royal city of Tartarus, inside Eiry’s apartments.

An Evening With The Twins:

Close-Up of Anise Swallowtail's WingThe knock at the door came just as Elena was sitting down to a hot cup of tea in her favorite reading chair. It was half past ten and she was alone in Eiry’s apartments. It was the first quiet moment she’d enjoyed all day, and had just pulled the throw over her legs when the sound broke the silence.

Elena held her breath and stayed absolutely still. From the corner of her eye, she watched the door and waited. Hopefully, she’d imagined it. There was a reason she preferred Eiry’s study to the front room with its open archways and antique cases full of artifacts and old manuscripts—the study was small and private.

“We know you’re in there,” came a familiar velvety voice from behind the door, dashing Elena’s hopes of staying under the radar.

Of all the possibilities, the twins knocking at her door meant there was no chance of escape.

Elena was considering her options—and the rare fact that they hadn’t just barged in uninvited—when the doorknob rattled violently. It was followed by the sound of a scuffle behind the door, then a flurry of cursing and fervent whispers. Elena would have laughed, if she didn’t know better. Galen had obviously lost his temper and Gavin had put him in check. 

“Galen’s sorry. Will you let us in?”

Elena jumped in her seat, startled by Gavin’s voice. It hadn’t come from behind the door, but from next to her on the chair. “Jesus, Gavin, you scared the daylights out of me!” Elena turned and glared at him, swatting at his arm. “You already let yourself in, so what’s the point of asking now?” 

“You told me to ask, so I did.” Gavin smiled triumphantly, leaning over the chair’s armrest to place a kiss on Elena’s cheek. He was so pleased with himself, he was bouncing where he stood and humming cheerfully to himself. His chin-length curls bounced along with him and his golden-green eyes glowed softly in the darkness, creating an illusion of innocence that was very far from the truth. “So, you forgive him, right? We need your help and we’re on a super tight schedule.”

Several weeks ago, Elena had a ‘talk’ with the twins about boundaries and the need for knocking. She should have known then that half of it would be lost in translation. “Knock, wait, then walk in after the okay. The order is important, Gav.” Elena shook her head, half amused. He offered his cheek and she returned his kiss, before sitting back in the chair and taking a sip of her tea. “And I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to help you. I had a really long day today and have an early morning tomorrow. Plus, Eiry won’t be happy if he comes home to find y’all here—you know he doesn’t like you guys coming in and out of his rooms whenever you like.” 

“An unhappy Snowflake. How very tragic.” Galen hissed the words into Elena’s ear from behind the chair, his velvet tone sheared at the edges. Elena started, surprised, and he clamped his hand over her mouth before she could yell. When she tried to fight him off, he caught her arm with his other hand and forced her still. “Now now, no need to get all feisty. Eiry’s running errands for our mother, so you and I both know he won’t be home for a while. What’s the harm?”

Elena took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. Being grabbed was bringing back unpleasant memories of the attack in Persephone’s courtyard and she was about to lose it with Galen, which was never a good thing. If she had been sensitive about her personal space before, the ordeal months earlier made her even more sensitive now. She had to remind herself that these were the twins, and she’d come to trust their brand of crazy.

“You should probably let go of her face now,” Gavin whispered to Galen, his eyes intent on Elena’s. She was as stiff as a board and kept looking down at the cup of tea in her hands like she was considering her options. “She looks like she might hit you with that cup. Plus, you’re going to leave marks on her face, and then Snowflake is seriously going to be pissed.”

“Does it look like I care about Eiry’s feelings?” Galen smiled a devilish smile at his brother and then leaned forward, his long black hair spilling over Elena’s shoulder as he ran the tip of his nose along the shell of her ear and up to her temple. He took a deep, shuddering breath and then slowly stepped away, releasing his hold.  

The moment he let go, Elena turned in her chair and smacked Galen across the chest, forgetting all about her resolve to stay calm. The tea went flying, and so did Elena’s cursing. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop sniffing me! And stop being so handsy! You and the rest of your family—”

“Me and the rest of my family, what exactly?” Galen put his hands up and stepped back, a savage smile spreading across his face. It reached his eyes, making them a sharper blue than usual. 

“You’re impossible, the lot of you!” Like a world-class idiot, Elena had played right into their hands. It was always like this with the twins—not a moment of peace. “You owe me a hot cup of tea, Galen, and then the two of you can go back the way you came.” Elena grabbed her now empty cup of tea and stood up from her chair. She shook off the throw, set her cup down on the coffee table and then sat back down, trying her best to resume a calm demeanor. “Like I said, I have an early day tomorrow.” 

“You have an early day every day, and you have another thing coming if you think I’m making you tea.” Galen stared at Elena, defiant as he took a seat in the empty reading chair beside hers. He crossed his right knee over his left, careful not to wrinkle his designer suit, and began to braid his hair. 

“What he means is,” Gavin quickly interjected, dropping to the floor in front of his brother without a care in the world, “we need your help to answer a few questions.”

“Questions? About what?” Elena focused on Gavin and tried to ignore Galen’s blatant staring.

“About Eiry.”

Gavin’s voice was sweet as honey, and his golden gaze pleading. Red flags immediately went up in Elena’s mind. “Seriously you two, I love you and you know I would do almost anything for you, but no. You can ask Eiry himself.”

“I told you, Gav. We should have just tied her up and forced her to talk,” Galen said matter-of-fact, as he tied off the end of his braid. “We would have been done and out by now.”

“We don’t need to use Plan A when we have Plan B,” Gavin reminded him, all business. “Bribes always work.”

“You two realize violence should be Plan B, right, not A.” Elena knew they weren’t listening, but someone had to be the voice of conscience in this group—reason was completely out of the question. “Not that I’m saying violence should ever be part of the plan. And I promise you, I’m above bribes.”

“No one’s above bribes,” the two assured Elena simultaneously, their gazes rising to meet hers at exactly the same time.

Elena hated when they did that. It reminded her of the Siamese cats in Lady and the Tramp.

“Ele, please,” Gavin cut in before she had a chance to say no again. “The interview is due tomorrow. This is our last chance. We’ve tried to persuade Eiry to do the interview all week but he refuses, so we’ve decided to do it for him. We’re just lost on a few of the questions. We’re prepared to give you something of great value. Plus, Eva won’t mind.” 

“Eva? What does Eva have to do with anything? I already did an interview of Eiry for Eva.”

“She wanted another one,” Galen answered with a shrug.

“Something of great value,” added Gavin, doing his best to dangle his carrot.

“Since when do you two do what Eva asks?”

“Since she made us an offer we can’t refuse.” Gavin grinned, bouncing in his seat. “Something of greeeeat value.” 

“Yes, yes. We’re all being offered things of great value. Go ahead and say it, Gavin. Say what you’re offering for my cooperation, because you won’t stop unless I ask, right?”

Gavin stared up at her with a wounded expression, his bottom lip jutting out as if he was about to cry, but he couldn’t keep it for long. He tried his best to hide a grin, as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took out what looked like some kind of card or paper. “Voila! A thing of great value.”

“A piece of paper…” Elena remarked, unimpressed.

“Everyone has a price, Elena, even good little girls like you.” Galen flipped over the card in his brother’s hand and smiled. “A baby picture of Eiry. Trust me when I tell you that it is authentic, and only one exists in the world. It just so happens that the one time he fell in battle, cameras had already been invented.”

Elena was speechless. Two seconds ago, she would have bet her life that she couldn’t be bought. Now, she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she turned down that picture. What were a few questions weighed against that? Plus, she’d really be helping Eiry. If she let the twins do this alone, gods only knew what they would say. “You willing to swear by the Styx that the picture is authentic?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Galen grinned, then leaned forward and offered her his hand. “But don’t take my word for it. You’re the best lie detector out there. See for yourself.”

Elena watched him, wary. He’d caught her off guard with his gesture. He’d sworn by the Styx, which was not taken lightly in his family, and also offered his hand, which no one was really chancing these days. “I’ll accept the picture and help you answer the questions. Verification will not be necessary.”

There was a quiet exchange of furtive glances between the twins, before Gavin handed Elena her picture and produced his list of questions.

“Okay, question number one.”

Gavin cleared his throat, his gaze darting back and forth across the page in his hand. It was obviously an email from Eva. Elena couldn’t begin to imagine what the woman had to offer the twins to ensure their cooperation.

What is your most notable characteristic? Eiry’s, I mean…” Gavin looked up at Elena with a beaming smile. “I say his skills with his scythe.”

“I’m better with a blade than he is, so the scythe is out,” Galen scoffed. “I say all that pallor and stoicism. It’s smexy.” 

Elena shook her head, wondering if this was precisely what Eva had in mind when she asked the twins for help. “His perseverance.” The answer was simple for Elena. Eiry had persevered against all odds, even in the face of so much loss. “Next question, Gavin.”

Gavin blinked, confused. Perseverance did not compute. In the end, he shrugged, wrote it down and then continued down his list. “Question number two. What personal achievement is Eiry most proud of? Normally I would go with something battle related, but I really think he’d say his chess skills. The man can beat the two of us at chess even though we’re unstoppable at fidchell. It defies all logic.”

Elena nodded, pretty sure that wasn’t the right answer, and turned to Galen. “What say you?”

“Probably when he won the gold metal in solo synchronized swimming at the last Games. I didn’t think he had any real talent until then.”

Elena stared at Galen, stupefied. “We’re going to go with saving me when I was a baby. Next question.” Photo or no photo, Eiry should thank his lucky little stars that she was helping.

“You’ll like this one, Ele.” Gavin’s index finger stopped halfway down the paper. “What is Eiry’s most meaningful possession?” He let the question linger and then looked up from his paper to stare at her, pointedly.

“Ummm, No.” Elena shook her head and turned to Galen with a sigh. “Spit it out.”

“A stuffed elephant Lucian gave him, after he fell in battle.”

Galen’s response was deadpan, leaving Elena to wonder—but she knew that way lay madness. Even if such an elephant existed, which it most certainly did not, Elena doubted Eiry would want the whole world to know about it. That meant that Elena needed to come up with a better answer than Gavin’s. She tried to think back on the past few months, but no one possession stood out. In the front room there were piles of artifacts and curios Eiry loved, but Elena couldn’t say any of them were his most meaningful possession. 

The twins were staring at her impatiently and she was about to give up, when it hit her. “The coins,” Elena whispered, more to herself than the twins. “The ones he chooses for an heir when they die.”

The moment Elena said it, there was a heavy silence. When she looked over at the twins, neither one of them would look at her. Galen was playing with his braid again and Gavin was preoccupying himself with his piece of paper.

Elena cleared her throat and pressed on. “Next question, boys.”

Gavin reacted slower than usual. He seemed to read the question to himself several times, before finally looking up to meet Elena’s eyes. “What brings Eiry the greatest joy in life?

“Elena,” Galen answered with unusual haste, turning to face her in his chair. He watched her quietly, then smiled—a smug, arrogant smile. “He’s a miserable shit, but even I can see you make him happy.” 

Elena quickly looked away, then down at her hands on her lap. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and hated how embarrassed she felt. Galen’s sudden candor, self-serving as it was, certainly didn’t help. “That one’s not going in there. Keep that one out of the interview. Okay, Gavin?”

Gavin nodded quietly and then continued with his next question, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Galen’s statement. “What is Eiry’s greatest fear?

Elena spoke up before any of them could answer. “Failing to protect the Heir. Next question.”

What is Eiry’s biggest regret?

“Gavin, are you serious? Is this really what Eva sent?” Elena was suddenly furious.

Gavin nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line. He looked uncomfortable, something Elena had never seen.

“I’m not making these up,” Gavin replied, proffering the page in his hand. “You can see for yourself.”

Elena shook her head and gently waved away Gavin’s hand. She was frustrated by the question and had taken it out on Gavin, when he was obviously just the messenger. “I’m sorry, Gav. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. It’s a touchy subject and Eva knows that. Anyone who’s read the book knows Eiry’s biggest regret—not being able to save 38 heirs. That number includes me. Make sure she prints that. Next question.”

How would Eiry define a perfect love?” Gavin asked, his voice high-pitched by the time he got to the last word.

Galen snorted out loud and barely tried to hide it. 

“We’re done,” Elena snapped. “You can tell Eva that she can work with the answers she has. She’s an author. I’m sure she can be creative and make do.”

Gavin pushed himself up on his knees and crawled toward Elena. Once he was kneeling in front of her, he pressed his palms together as if he were praying. “Just one more, Ele. I’ll skip that last one, okay? I promise. We just have to get six answers or we won’t meet our end of the bargain.”

“You shouldn’t beg, Gavin. It’s unseemly,” Galen chided his brother.

“You always make me beg. What’s the difference?” Gavin glared at Galen, made a vulgar gesture with his hand, and then turned to face Elena with a smile. “Tell us a secret about Eiry that no one else knows.

“He watches Project Runway when he thinks no one’s looking.”

 

 

Such stuff as dreams are made

BCpaperbackIt’s here! It’s here! It’s finally here! Three years and a Cold War With Drop Caps/Small Caps later, it’s finally in print! Physical. Tangible. Definite. My soul made manifest and laid bare for the world to see.

There are no words to describe the feeling. Relief. Elation. Awe. Satisfaction. Euphoria. Joy. Humility. Accomplishment. Pride. All these words, while true, seem two-dimensional.

This is the stuff of dreams.

So when’s the big day? The First Edition Paperback of The Butterfly Crest will be released on November 11th through Amazon! To celebrate, I’ll be giving away 3 signed copies on Goodreads, so please stay tuned in the next few days for more information on that!

But wait, there’s more! Spread The Word Book Blog Tours will be hosting a Virtual Book Tour for The Butterfly Crest from November 10th through the 18th (which will include another giveaway), and The Twins and I have been working on a Character Interview for your reading pleasure (thanks Moonrise Book Blog for the invitation!).

So if you’re an old friend of the beasties or new, we’d love to have you join the celebration!

Happy news

finalist-shiny-hrHello all! Just a quick status to share some fantastic news. I received word late last night that The Butterfly Crest has been selected as a finalist in the Readers’ Favorite International Book Award Contest! It made the cut in three categories (Fiction – Fantasy, Fiction – Paranormal, and Fiction – Supernatural), so please keep your fingers crossed for me and the little beasties!!

Oh, and if you happened to miss yesterday’s interview of the immodest Mr. Muse, you can take a quick look here.

The Writing Process Blog Tour

Ohara
“Bullfinch on Flowering Plum” by Ohara Koson

Hi all! Patrick Wong, author of Balancer, invited me to participate in The Writing Process Blog Tour.  For those unfamiliar with a blog tour, they are chained posts where authors answer a few questions and then tag other authors to keep up the chain the next week. For those unfamiliar with Patrick, he writes Young Adult fiction with a paranormal twist.  His debut novel, Balancer is about a teenager who has the power to balance Life. You can find Balancer on Amazon here.

And with that… here we go.

What am I working on?

I’m currently working on the follow-up to The Butterfly Crest. This will be the second book in The Protogenoi Series. It has a title already, but I’m going to wait a little while longer before revealing it (just in case). I’m three chapters into Book Two (as we’ll affectionately call it for now), and I’m waking up early in the mornings to get a few hours of writing in before I have to go into the office.

How does my work differ from others in its genre?

The Butterfly Crest is an epic fantasy set in modern times. Its storyline is heavy on mythology; different world mythologies in particular. What sets it apart from other works in the fantasy genre is its treatment of those mythologies. The story follows Elena, a human woman who suddenly finds herself in the middle of a Greek myth, in a world where human belief can create or alter the divine. It is a world where all faiths (past and present) are real, and their mythologies are weaved into one mythos.

My plan (and I sometimes deviate from plans, so please don’t hold me to this later) is to include at least three major mythologies in each book. In The Butterfly Crest, you meet the yōkai of Japanese myth, post-modern Greek deities, and the Tuatha Dé Danann. The appearance of yōkai in American fiction is pretty sparse, so including them as a major part of the story was one of the most enjoyable aspects of writing the book.

Why do I write what I do?

My characters compel me to.

How does my writing process work?

This one is a loaded question for the obvious reasons, but also because my writing process has changed from Book One to Book Two. I wrote The Butterfly Crest while I was on hiatus from my legal career. After doing the initial research and preparing a pretty detailed outline, I started to write. I would wake up every morning, dress comfortably, prepare my writing nook and make myself a pot of tea. I would then write for at least 8 hours. If I was having trouble, if Mr. Muse abandoned me, I would sit and stare at the screen until it came. I did this every day of the week. I took the weekends off in the beginning, but towards the end the writing started bleeding into my weekends.

Writing Book Two has been completely different. I’m juggling writing with managing my own law practice, so I can’t dedicate 8 hours a day, 5+ days a week to writing. Now, I wake up every morning at 5 a.m. and write until 7:30 a.m. I have an outline, but not nearly as detailed as the one I had for Book One. The process is much looser this time around, since all the groundwork has already been laid, but the allotted time slots bring their own brand of problems (you can read about my disgruntled writing elves here). Being “in the mood” to write wasn’t an issue before because I had the luxury of time, but now, if Mr. Muse acts up and his mood lasts more than two and a half hours, there goes my writing for the day. Stopping mid-scene (because of the allotted time) has taken some getting used to. The process is slow going, but I’m having a ball with it (when the writing elves are happy).

And with that, I’m passing the torch to author Ben Starling, an Oxford grad who is passionate about marine conservation and boxing, both of which are central themes in his upcoming novel. He is currently Writer in Residence for Mirthquake Ltd., a production company that advocates for ocean health and welfare. Check out Ben’s blog next Monday, July 7th!

Happy Reading!


This week’s image is “Bullfinch on Flowering Plum” by Ohara Koson. Ohara was a Japanese painter and printmaker of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and part of the shin-hanga (“new prints”) movement.

On happy and unexpected occurrences

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“Peonies in the Wind” by Sakai Hōitsu (1761-1828), Edo Period.

It’s been 16 days since The Butterfly Crest launched, and I don’t think I’ve stopped for even a second. I knew my plate would be full the second everything went live, but I couldn’t have guessed the full extent of it.

The work is never-ending. I had a game plan, but every time I finish a task three take its place. I’m learning something new with every click of the cursor, and the process seems to reinvent itself every day. That being said, I’ve enjoyed every second of it. The pace might be a little insane, but connecting directly with readers, and other writers, has been a joy. I received my first reader email halfway through the week, and it was from the mountains of Turkey!

I’ve been thinking about what to write (it’s hard to pare down the experience), and the first thing that comes to mind is the incredible support I’ve received from friends and family. I’d given the book to less than a dozen people before its launch (to assist in the revision process), and all of them went out in full force to spread the word. They’ve shared and promoted the book through social media almost as tirelessly as I have. They are fully invested in the book’s success, and I’m in complete awe of them. There’s also the ones who are doing exactly the same thing, without having been part of that peer review group, and the ones who, in spite of not owning ereaders, downloaded apps, purchased the book, and are reading it on their phones (which I can tell you from experience is NOT an easy task) and spreading the news. There aren’t sufficient words in the English language to express my gratitude for their support.

And while I’m on the topic of supportive friends and family, I can’t leave out the unexpected gift I received in the mail. On Tuesday morning, I arrived at the office to find a package waiting for me. The box had the logo of a tea retailer and weighed very little, so I imaged someone had sent me some tea (which for me is like gold). When I opened the box and removed the tissue paper, what I found wasn’t tea. Staring back at me was a white butterfly crest, in a sea of black crepe silk. It was a haori, a kimono jacket, with a singular butterfly kamon at the nape of the neck. Kamon is the Japanese word for a family crest, and the inspiration for the name of my novel. One of my dearest friends had sent me the gift to commemorate the launch of my book. And once again, there weren’t sufficient words in the English language to express my gratitude.

Which brings me to the topic of butterflies. In the email I received from Turkey, the reader described an experience she had with a swallowtail butterfly while she was reading the book. In that moment, I realized how powerful a symbol it can be, that it had resonated with her in the same way it resonated with me. I have to admit that I’ve never quite looked at a butterfly in the same way again, since finishing my book. What’s incredible about it is that I didn’t set out with the intent of the butterfly becoming the symbol for Elena’s journey, or mine for that matter. It was just one of those happy occurrences while I was writing. Now, I can’t imagine this journey without it, and every time I see one (yesterday afternoon in my backyard or the photo of one a friend posted on Facebook this morning) I can’t help but feel completely at peace. The experience of writing my first novel, of fulfilling that dream, and publishing it has been transformative, and the butterfly, for me, has become a symbol of that transformation (in the same way it was for Elena, and in the mythos of different cultures throughout history).

Speaking of Elena, it’s been a huge relief to see the warm reception she’s received as our reluctant heroine. When you’re writing a story with a large supporting cast of divine creatures, who are forces of nature in their own right, you can’t help but worry that the voice of your human protagonist might be overwhelmed. Even in my head, the cast of beasties fight for room on the page while Ele usually just sits back, but it looks like that contrast resonated with readers. Both of the editorial reviews the novel has received have commented on Elena’s strength as the protagonist, and I’m thrilled about it.

Which brings me to the second editorial review—The Butterfly Crest has received another 5 stars! I can’t think of a better way to close out this post.

Reviewed By Kathryn Bennett for Readers’ Favorite:

The Butterfly Crest by Eva Vanrell takes us between the shadows of the human world where a war that is as old as time is raging. A long-told prophecy says one human woman will change the course of the divine war and one day Elena – a seemingly regular woman living a normal life – gets a letter about a deposit box in her mother’s name. This letter and the contents of the box are a cursed inheritance and send Elena on a journey that could only be considered mythical and unbelievable. She must make choices to see where destiny takes her.

This is a great story that merges two different realms almost seamlessly into one another and makes a complex story entertaining and compelling. The action was fast and the pace of the book was perfect. Elena is a fantastic character whom I found to be intelligent and strong, but who has to find her way in an impossible situation, giving her even more depth as well. Eva Vanrell has created a strong story with a beautifully strong female main character, in a world and with a story line that is imaginative and unique. I have read many fantasy style stories that offer a similar version of wars that have been going on for all time, but this has been by far one of the most well thought out and well put together plots. If you are looking for a read for the summer that will have you hooked within the first pages and hold your interest until the very end, leaving you wanting more … then this is your book.

On my first editorial review

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This week continues to be a whirlwind of activity, but I wanted to take a second to share with everyone the first editorial review of The Butterfly Crest. Hope you find it helpful! It certainly put a smile on my face. What I found most encouraging about Ms. Madhavan’s words was that she was able to hear Elena’s voice over the demands of her supporting cast (deities can be a handful, trust me). And now, without further ado, here’s the review:

Reviewed By Mamta Madhavan for Readers’ Favorite – 5 stars

The Butterfly Crest by Eva Vanrell is a fantasy filled fiction that is contemporary and exotic. Elena Vicens’ life takes a turn when she receives a letter one day regarding a deposit box belonging to her mother. This letter comes to her nineteen years after her mother’s death and the letter sends her from New Orleans to Japan. She finds herself in possession of a cursed inheritance and the story takes off from there. Readers find themselves in the midst of legends and myths, the strangeness of everyday life, a human woman who will shape the outcome of the divine war and, amid all this, Elena must choose her own destiny.

It is an intriguing, imaginative and very original story with many layers and that makes it a compelling read. It moves between the tangible and intangible, giving the story a surreal feel and keeping readers guessing about the outcome. The narration is descriptive and gives more clarity to the plot. It is an exceptional read. Elena is an interesting character that has been portrayed vividly and wonderfully. Her presence dominates the story throughout, holding the plot together. There is a mysterious vibe in the theme, enhanced by the description of Elena’s character.

The shifts in the story that occur between the two locations and the afterlife give it a new dimension and make it an even more attractive and exceptional book to read.

 

On going public…

Kitagawa_Utamaro_-_The_Courtesan_Ichikawa_of_the_Matsuba_Establishment_-_Google_Art_Project
The Courtesan Ichikawa of the Matsuba Establishment by Kitagawa Utamaro

Truth be told, I don’t even know where to begin. My mind is a jumble of too many thoughts. That said, I’m just going to jot them down and hope they come out coherently. If they don’t, my apologies.

Moving onto the first thought…

After much toil and four proofs, it’s official — The Butterfly Crest is now published. It’s been distributed to the various eBook retailers and should be available at all of them within the next four weeks. It is available now through iBooks/iTunesAmazon Kindle and the Bookshop. Barnes & Noble should have it listed in 2 to 4 weeks. It will also be available through Kobo, Oyster, Copia, Scribd, Gardners, Flipkart, Baker & Taylor, and eSentral. Keep an eye out for the Goodreads listing, which should be up soon!

If you’ve heard that announcement before, I apologize for the repetition, but I wanted to put it up as a regular post (not just a status).

Moving onto my second thought…

For the past 14 years, my cast of characters has existed in the aether. Their world was limited to the mind of the author and a single reader. That audience has expanded slowly these past 3 years, to include a few brave souls who took a leap of faith and believed me when I told them I could write (they knew my passion for it, but passion and ability are two very different things). Now, Pandora’s box is wide open. My cast of beasties (and trust me, you’ll understand why I call them that once you read) has gone public and there’s no turning back. They have shaped and colored my life these past 14 years, and if they can do a fraction of that for you, bring you the smallest bit of joy, then this journey was well worth it.

Which brings me to my third thought… how much we, as authors, put of ourselves into our books.

I never thought publishing would make me feel vulnerable, but I have to admit it did so immediately. A click of a button and suddenly (relatively speaking), your work is out there for the world to see. Yes, you expect and try to prepare yourself for criticism, but that isn’t really the flavor of vulnerable I’m experiencing right now. I poured my heart and soul into this book, and left a large part of myself in it. As you read, you’ll experience the obvious things, like my passion for mythology, my awe for Japanese culture, and my obsession with ancient Greece; but what about the not-so-obvious things? It was Plato who said, “You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.” In my case, you can substitute play with my writing. Just an hour of reading, and you’ll know more about me than you would have working beside me for five years. Of course, you won’t know which parts are me, exactly, but that doesn’t make the experience any less intimate. That intimacy might be almost entirely one-sided, but the act of sharing it is deeply personal, and a little terrifying.

What makes that deeply personal and intimate act worth sharing brings me to my fourth and final thought…

I love to be affected by what I read, and in writing I aim to do the same for my readers. As long as my words reach you, I’m satisfied. If you are able to escape, to laugh, to cry, to feel and connect with my characters, then my hope has been realized. Sales, numbers, platform—those things are necessary, but they aren’t the reason I write. The reason I write is made clear when my mother calls me defiant, refusing to read on because she can’t differentiate between me and a character; or when a friend calls to tell me he thinks of my book now every time he drives by the New Orleans Museum of Art; or when another friend uses my own characters to encourage me (“Cataline would approve,” indeed!). That is the reason I write, and those moments will be how I measure my success moving forward.

As a final note, today’s image is Kitagawa Utamaro’s “The Courtesan Ichikawa of the Matsuba Establishment.” Utamaro was an Edo period ukiyo-e artist, famous for his portraits of female beauties known as bijin-ga. His work reached Europe in the mid-ninteeth century, and even influenced the Impressionists. The reason I chose this image, other than the obvious fact that it’s quite lovely, was because of the detail in the fabric (it reminded me of a fusuma door I describe in my book).

 

On opening Pandora’s box…

The Butterfly Crest has officially been distributed to all eBook retailers! It is available now (for all eReaders) through BookBaby. It will be available through Amazon Kindle mid next week, and the iBookstore in 1 to 2 weeks. Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Copia, Scribd, Baker & Taylor, Gardners, eSentral, Oyster, and Flipkart will carry it in 2-4 weeks. I’ll keep you posted as the links go live. Your reviews are welcome!!

On delays…

Good morning. I know this announcement is late in coming (my sincere apologies), but I’ve had to delay the book release by about two weeks (hopefully) because of some conversion issues with two special characters used in Japanese words. I’ll keep everyone posted as more info comes in. Sorry for the delay, but I held out until the last minute hoping we could fix this in time. It’s very important to me to salvage the proper spelling and usage of the language, so I hope you don’t mind. Cheers, and thanks for your support!

On a break from the madness…

‘Peony flower and butterflies’, hanging scroll by Itō Jakuchū, ca. 1757.

My apologies for the radio silence of late, but quite a lot has been happening behind the scenes and I’m trying my best to keep on top of everything.

First thing’s first, I’m thrilled to announce that The Butterfly Crest will be at an ebook retailer near you in May. The official publish date is May 16th, but the date could vary depending on the retailer. It will be available through iBooks, Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Copia and a slew of others, so please stay tuned for those updates. The book will also be available on print in the next few months.

If you’d like to stay up to date on the latest news, please join my new mailing list to receive that information via email, as well as exclusive sneak peeks, promotions and bonus materials. You can sign up here. Rest assured, your contact information is safe with me!

If you look around the site, you’ll see a few new additions. The theme this week was ‘social media’. After a little trial and error, I have officially joined Twitter (@EvaVanrell) and started a Facebook Page. I’ve added Follow and Like buttons to the sidebar on the main page, and links to the accounts themselves on the menu above. It goes without saying that your support is greatly appreciated. 

The proof for the book arrived mid week and I’ve been knee-deep in review. It’s been a struggle to stop myself from reading the thing word for word, so I handed it over to my husband this morning. As of right now, the format looks amazing and we haven’t seen any major problems.

Book Two is coming along, and I’ve somehow managed to find a little time to write in all the madness (when I’m not woking on social media, streamlining the website, setting up the book promotion, or at my day job). I’m really happy with how the story is developing, and I can’t wait to be able to focus all of my energy on writing (and telling you all about it)!

Today’s image is ‘Peony flower and butterflies’ by Itō Jakuchū, ca. 1757. I would say I chose it, but it was really Mr. Muse while we were on Pinterest two weeks ago. He’s quite fond of butterflies, and it seemed an appropriate image for today’s post.

On Cataline’s garden, Livia Callas, and the appeal of a finely dressed man

Hiroshige_Pruneraie_à_Kameido
The Plum Garden in Kameido, ukiyo-e print by Hiroshige, part of the series “One Hundred Famous Views of Edo”.

(As promised, Chapter Two of The Butterfly Crest follows. Sorry for the short preamble, but I’m doing what most other authors say you shouldn’t do—obsessing over what I’ve already written. There’s a consensus out there that says you should write, freely, first and worry about perfection later. While I agree with that, the problem I have is that I can’t move forward unless I’m somewhat satisfied with what I’ve written before. I’m not striving for perfection that first time around, but if I don’t get the feel I want out of what I’ve written, I can’t ease into that next scene. I think it’s just the way my brain works. Hopefully, today’s journey will ultimately lead me to a festival scene I’ve been dying to write. If you haven’t read the Synopsis, Prologue or Chapter One of The Butterfly Crest, please do so before reading Chapter Two. Happy reading!)

 

CHAPTER TWO

The rest of Elena’s week was just as disastrous. Ms. Callas made Elena miserable at work, the few hours of peace Elena normally had at home were slowly being swallowed up by extra work Ms. Callas was having her do, and, it didn’t matter how hard Elena tried, Ms. Callas was never satisfied. The way she expressed her dissatisfaction, in this cold and deceptively passive way, left Elena feeling inadequate, an emotion she was not comfortable with.

To be fair, even without Ms. Callas’ special brand of torment, Elena wasn’t happy. Somehow, between the demands of her career and “living the dream,” discontent had slowly taken root. Elena loved the practice of law. She had wanted to be a lawyer for as long as she could remember—every pet she had during her childhood she had named Cicero—but the reality of law, the business of it, was not something Elena had anticipated or been prepared for. She had been so idealistic about her career that it had left little to no room for the pragmatic aspects of its practice, where quantity was more important than quality; a truth Elena couldn’t reconcile.

This had been her frame of mind for months. Even so, Elena continued to get up every morning to go to a job she didn’t enjoy. She wanted to believe she did so out of a sense of duty or honor, but it had more to do with pride. She refused to be defeated, and so she struggled not to let the discontent consume her. Fortunate for her, she was temperate by nature.

Living in Japan during the first years of her life, and the devastating loss of her parents, had left an indelible mark. Ritual, privacy, modesty, honor and decorum; these things were incredibly important to Elena. Most of all, she was not the kind of woman to wear her emotions on her sleeve. With her, the adage was true—still waters ran deep. And so Elena continued on her path, trying to find the right balance in her life, and hoping she would soon find it.

Thinking it might lessen her unhappiness Elena focused the few work-free hours of her week on doing things that made her happy. On Wednesday, for instance, she visited the New Orleans Museum of Art during her lunch hour, and ran in City Park after work. There was something sacred about walking through the stone halls of the museum, a profound sense of calm, and finding peace beneath the shade of a giant oak tree at the end of her run. On Thursday evening, Elena dined with Cataline.

It was spring, Elena’s favorite time of year in New Orleans, and one that traditionally brought with it evenings spent outside. Since her earliest memories, April was a time for eating in Cataline’s garden, surrounded by blooming hydrangea bushes, the gurgle of a fountain and a continuous stream of birdsong from the trees. Thursday evening was no exception.

“So, tell me about your love life.”

Cataline made her request without any preamble, a teasing smile brightening her face as she set down a plate of roasted brussels sprouts on the table. It was a surprise she hadn’t asked the question before; questions about Elena’s love life were usually the first thing out of Cataline’s mouth, and Elena had arrived an hour and a half before to help with dinner.

“Nothing to tell, really.” Elena made a face and then took a sip from her drink. The food was spread out between them on the patio table, and each held a cocktail in her hand. Elena speared a brussels sprout and chewed on it quietly, while Cataline stared at her across the table.

Cataline was the opposite of Elena. Where Elena was reserved, Cataline was loud and full of life. The daughter of a French pianist and a Spanish cook, Cataline grew up in New Orleans and was childhood friends with Elena’s mother, and, like her, was also an artist. Elena liked to think of her as hippie chic. She had long, curly chestnut brown hair with deep amber highlights, light olive skin, deep-set hazel eyes, and cheekbones to die for.

“Nothing to tell? Is that your story, really?” Cataline stared at Elena with a perfectly arched brow, and downed half of her cocktail in one swallow. “A girl as beautiful as you and no love story to tell. Elena, you’re too serious for your own good. You need to put yourself out there. Every girl needs a good love story, and the love affair with your shoes doesn’t count. Although I can see how red-soled shoes could get any girl’s heart fluttering.”

Cataline’s smile was warm, and as comforting as the summer sun. Elena wished she could smile with that kind of confidence. When she was younger, all Elena wanted to be was like Cataline. Tall, lithe, almost ethereal looking, Cataline was uninhibited and vibrant, something all together different than Elena and the more reserved culture she had grown up in as a child. When Elena had first arrived in New Orleans after her parent’s death, she was floored by the contrast. Cataline wore every emotion on her sleeve, and never kept anything to herself. She was full of joy and she lived every second to the fullest, without reservations.

“You know I splurge on very little,” Elena replied to Cataline’s earlier remark. “I can at least have one weakness,” and red-soled heels were it.

Although Elena’s parents had left her a trust fund with enough money to see her through her childhood and a decent part of her adult life, she did not spend it frivolously. She lived as modestly as her profession allowed, and it was important for her to have savings just in case the worst were to happen to her or Cataline. Cataline didn’t have anyone taking care of her—she was a divorcée—and raising a child had not exactly been economical. Cataline had inherited a house in the Garden District from her parents—an old Greek Revival that was as much a part of Cataline as Cataline’s buoyant personality—and she and Elena had lived in it since Elena’s parents died, but the house was beginning to show its years and if something were to happen to them, they would only have a deteriorating house, and Elena’s dwindling trust, to fall back on.

“I did run into a handsome guy the other day at work, literally,” Elena added, and then recounted for Cataline the story of her encounter with the blonde-haired man. Elena told her story quietly, as they ate, the crisp spring air growing cooler around them as night settled over the small garden. Halfway through, Cataline ran inside to grab a cardigan but the cooler air didn’t bother Elena, although she had to admit it felt colder than it should have.

“And you didn’t even get his name?” Cataline chided her in the end, resting her chin on her hand and giving Elena a half smile; she had topped off her drink only moments before. “That’s what I’m talking about, Elena. You need to take a few risks. Live a little. You should have ran after him and asked for his number or his Facebook name. Isn’t that what you kids do today?”

“I don’t have a Facebook account, Cataline.” Elena tried not to roll her eyes. Instead, she took another sip from her cocktail. “And what was I supposed to do? He was really rude about it. He didn’t offer to help me pick up the papers, and he sure as hell didn’t apologize; not that it was his fault, but it would have been the gentleman-like thing to do. He didn’t even speak. He stared at me like I was a fly in his drink and then walked away.” Now that she thought about it, the incident made Elena angry. The man hadn’t been civil at all.

“He sounds handsome, though.”

Cataline’s voice took on a dreamy lightness when she said it, and Elena couldn’t help but laugh. As Cataline reached for her drink something moved in the air above her shoulder.

Elena leaned forward to see a small, pale blue butterfly fluttering in the air, which she somehow hadn’t noticed before. “Of course, in your school of thinking good looks cures everything,” Elena replied, then shook her head and continued to eat her dinner. By the time she looked up from her plate, the butterfly had gone.

Before Cataline could pick up on the conversation, Elena decided to change the subject to something less annoying; she didn’t want to think about that man or her work. Cataline was obsessed with art, and so for the rest of the meal Elena distracted her with a discussion on the latest art exhibit at the New Orleans Museum of Art, an exhibit on Zen art from Japan. After dinner, Elena helped Cataline clean, agreed to meet her Saturday for lunch at Café Degas—their favorite restaurant—and left before Cataline recalled their prior topic of conversation.

Continue reading On Cataline’s garden, Livia Callas, and the appeal of a finely dressed man

On returning to Mr. Muse and his sudden rise to stardom

There I was, less than two weeks into my apotheosis from lawyer to writer, and all I had was him, Mr. Muse (and believe me when I say, he was fine with it).

My original idea had met an untimely death, forcing its characters into a permanent hiatus (I’m sad to report this is where they remain today). Because of Mr. Muse, I had an inkling of the world we would be dealing with (after all, he’d been around for over a decade), but I had no clue what story to tell. All I knew was that he wouldn’t be the protagonist—he couldn’t be—because certain parts of his charming personality made that impossible.

So I was dressed for the ball, with a (hot) date, and no way of getting there. What now?

When you can’t write, do.

I put on my comfy house clothes, prepared myself my favorite hot tea, found the comfortable corner on our overly large couch and started brainstorming. I needed to think about him and the world he lived in; what I found most fascinating about it, and how I could tie that into a journey a reader, and I as the writer, would love to take.

Several things came together at once. I wanted to write a story that I would read, one I would be obsessive about (and if you knew me, you’d know my obsessions are epic). It would be a fantasy novel (since that’s the world he lived in), and mythology would play a major role (since that was part of his storyline and also one of my epic obsessions). I also knew it needed to take place in the present time.

Now I just needed to fill in the blanks.

For several years, I’d toyed and played with the notion of a spirit/mythical world existing in tandem with our own, inhabited by gods and creatures of every ilk. The world of ancient myth, living and breathing in modern times, not bound by culture or a particular dogma. This world would be the backdrop to my story. (The idea came from something a university professor once told me—the question shouldn’t be whether god exists; the fact that so many people believe and act in his name makes him real. In my brain, that meant: human belief, if strong enough, gives shape to the divine. If you consider that in the context of human history, that’s a heck of a lot of gods).

To make the story authentic, I would need a human protagonist to navigate this world; the juxtaposition of a human against that kind of chaos was too appealing for me to ignore. Of course, the protagonist would have to be a woman (since she would be a nice contrast to him). Cue Elena.

Now the question became (outside of the several days it took me to shape an idea of Elena in my head), what could I use to throw Elena into the chaos? How could I get a human to play a role in a world full of gods? I have to admit, that one came a little easy. Ancient myth is chockfull of stories where humans play a role. If it worked for them, then it would work for me.

There began the long search for the perfect myth, one I could use and make palpable in a modern world. As I worked on that part of the story, I had to also begin to consider the overall setting and the mythologies I wanted to explore.

I’ve always been fascinated by mythology, the similarities between different cultures in particular. I decided I would focus on the Greeks as the main mythology because their culture greatly influenced our world, but there were dozens of others I wanted to share with the reader; one of the major concepts behind choosing mythology as a subject was to educate the reader (to make you all as obsessed with this stuff as I am). I can confidently say that everything contained in the book about the different cultures and their mythology is accurate, and those places where I deviate for purposes of plot are clearly labeled as such.

The mythologies I chose ultimately dictated the supporting cast of characters. The main ones I had already developed over the years, and the new ones took shape as I reached those points in the storyline.

On the topic of setting, once I chose the particular mythologies I would explore (I decided to explore three per book), the settings came naturally; Elena would have to go to the countries that gave birth to those myths. The tricky part came when I started writing and realized there were some I hadn’t been to… but that’s a topic for another time.