Interview Rhobin Courtright

by

Saje Williams

1) Are there any fantasy authors you feel have influenced you and your work? Ones that you particularly look up to?

 I've read and enjoyed many fantasy and science fiction authors, certainly most of the standard 'fantasy' authors. However, if any author influenced me, it was probably a historical writer.

 2) What are your top favorite books of all times?

 Sounding very trite, but Pride and Predjudice. I've re-read it about once a year since required reading in my junior class of high school. I also enjoyed Sergeann Golon's Angelic series because of the historical background, which lead me to read Dorothy Dunnet's Lymond Chronicals, Andre Norton's Witch World series, Mary Stewart's mysteries, the list goes on.

 3) Is there any genre you would like to write in but aren't sure you're up to the challenge?

 I would love to write GOOD comedy-romance or comedy anything, but I'm sure I couldn't pull it off, wrong mindset or something. I'm better at getting laughed at than inspiring laughter.

 4) Where do you think your best ideas come from?

 Most of my ideas generate from a mixture of things--news and science articles, speculation, watching and listening to people.

 5) Which character do you feel you've poured the most of yourself into?

 I've read where every character is just one psychological piece of the hero, and I'm sure it's probably even more true that every character you write has some aspect of yourself in him or her, but I can't think of any one particular character who is an actual reflection of my me. Maybe Alix in Home World ~ Aginfeld. The most difficult one to write was Jezlynn in my June release, Rogue's Rules, because each of her different personas had to be identifiable to the reader.

 6) If they were to make a movie of one of your books, which one would you like to see, and who would you cast as the hero and heroine?

 I'm not sure my stories lend themselves to translation into films, perhaps the series that starts with Rogue's Rules. I can't think of who to play the hero or heroine, but I'd sure like to be part of the casting crew and get to interview all those beautiful up-and-coming actors.

 7) What kind of scene is your least favorite to write, and why?

 Those in-between scenes needed for the logical flow of the story between major drama or plot development scenes. It's hard to judge what or how much is needed plus have a device to make it dynamic reading.

 8) Is there any genre or sub-genre of fiction that you don't particularly care for?

 I read just about anything, but paranormals with vampires or werewolves would not be my first pick, and traditional sword and sorcery and epic fantasy have to be very well written to interest me, but western historicals are probably my last pick.

 9) Are you working on anything now, and, if so, could we have a sneak peak?

 Sure, would love to. This is from Change, which time-wise comes before Acceptance and after Magic Aegis.

 The firebrand felt heavy in her hand. Tyna’s gaze shifted from choppy gray-blue lake waters beyond to the carefully built pyre holding her mother’s body on the shore. She stepped forward and thrust the burning piece of wood into the pile. A local priest’s prayer chant rolled over her awareness, the words never reaching sensibility. Dry kindling quickly ignited.

Like a replay of the life it consumed, the fire remained hesitant at first. Then, small nascent flames crawled in pale transparent lines along pine edges to suddenly crackle with the energy of young life. Air caught and twined the glowing currents in endless possibilities and eddies, eventually whipping into a crescendo of radiance, engulfing the funeral structure. Smoke billowed in a skyward journey out over the waters of the lake. Nearer the inferno, air carried a dark rank smell that permeated the area of the fire’s scorching heat. Taking backward steps, Tyna raised an arm in defense against the hot air. She imagined she saw her Mama moving, writhing within, as she had before the fever claimed her. The image was so strong she nearly called in warning.

“I am Naomi.” Her mother’s familiar words washed through her and she grimaced, remembering the many corrections after calling her mother. “I am me, Naomi, the owner of a caravan.”

“It is over. May your mother rest now.” The cleric patted her arm and left.