Living in the UK, Bella Harte is the author of YA paranormal fiction, who writes a great book blog. I am thrilled that she featured my work and my interview back to back, first on her Saturday Showcase and then on Talking with Uvi on the Sunday Spotlight.
On Saturday, she featured an excerpt from my novel, Apart From Love. Here is an excerpt out of that excerpt:
His silence is new to me. It’s like, shouting from the walls. And what I read into it is like, if I didn’t show so much leg back then, when he first laid eyes on me, ten years ago in that ice cream shoppe, and if I didn’t wear them hot pink, high heel shoes, which forced him, somehow, to lose his head over me—which could never have happened otherwise—then things would be totally different now:
Nothing would end up tearing this family apart, and instead, the piano would still be crouching in place, and Natasha, his first wife, would still be here to play it—or at least, to pass her hand fondly over its back, and twiddle her fingers when she’s done checking for dust, and smiling to herself, because like, all’s well. All would be just fine.
To read the entire excerpt, please go to her Saturday Showcase.
On Saturday, she featured an excerpt from my novel, Apart From Love. Here is an excerpt out of that excerpt:
His silence is new to me. It’s like, shouting from the walls. And what I read into it is like, if I didn’t show so much leg back then, when he first laid eyes on me, ten years ago in that ice cream shoppe, and if I didn’t wear them hot pink, high heel shoes, which forced him, somehow, to lose his head over me—which could never have happened otherwise—then things would be totally different now:
Nothing would end up tearing this family apart, and instead, the piano would still be crouching in place, and Natasha, his first wife, would still be here to play it—or at least, to pass her hand fondly over its back, and twiddle her fingers when she’s done checking for dust, and smiling to herself, because like, all’s well. All would be just fine.
To read the entire excerpt, please go to her Saturday Showcase.
Then on Sunday, she interviewed me about my work, and allowed me to offer a first glimpse of my new story, I Am What I Am. The excerpt starts as follows:
Lying still in a corner of the cave, I try my best not to rattle, not to betray my fear. I figure, as long as they think me unconscious, I am safe. I have jolted awake because of the voices, only to discover they are incoherent and muffled. In between the gusts of wind, I can hear them hissing. Each phrase plays out in some verbose foreign music, which I cannot decipher for the life of me. Sigh. This is not Aramaic for sure, or any of the other languages spoken by the locals in my village or by the merchants traveling through along the Jordan river.
It feels as if something has been taken away from me. My breath? My name? Identity? Who am I, then?
After an eternity, the confusion in my head starts clearing up. I stare at the thick soup of blackness around me. I listen. I catch a word here and there, and somehow I get it. No longer is it Greek to me. Or perhaps it is.
“But why? What is she to you?” says a trembling, shaky voice. “Why even come here for her? Just a beggar, is what she is.”
And in grumble—louder than the whirlwind—another voice says, “Now, who are you to ask?”
“Forgive me... I am nothing, nothing before you. Crush me if you will. I am dust, dust under your feet... But you, you have more important things to do. Let her rot.”
“Gird up now your loins like a man; for I will demand of you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the foundations of this realm? Declare, if you have any understanding! Who has laid the measures thereof, if you know? Or who has stretched the line upon it?”
“I bow,” says the first. “I bow before you. Oh please, forgive me.”
And splosh! I hear the poor devil plodding away, wading through some slush. A minute later, the footfalls of the other march up the road in the other direction, until finally the ground under me stops rumbling.
So I turn on my belly and crawl, finding my way in the dark, till at last I peek out—if only by a nose—through the mouth of the cave. Which allows me, for the first time, to take in the view.
To read the entire interview, I invite you to go to Talking with Uvi on the Sunday Spotlight.
Yikes! I sure hope she doesn't come across any of those poisonous spiders when crawling on her belly through the cave. You got my curiosity piqued. :-)
ReplyDeletelol... Glad you became curious, CR HIATT... To read a bit more about it look here: http://uviart.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-next-big-thing.html
DeleteVery intriguing!
ReplyDeleteThank you Sheila, I had wicked fun with it...
Delete