Tag Archives: Fiction writer

A visit with Linda T. Kepner

Today I’m hosting multi-genre author Linda T. Kepner. Linda is a fellow NHRWA sistah and she writes a wide variety of fiction from science fiction and mystery to romance. Since her writing is so wide spread, I asked her which literary characters she’d like to have dinner with, knowing she could pull from a rich serving of folks. Read on and see who her culinary delights are and why. It’s pretty fascinating.

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Peggy Jaeger asked me: What Literary character(s) would you like to have dinner with, and why?

I’m influenced by intelligent heroes and heroines. And I think the food would be as interesting as the conversation!

Archie Goodwin. Somewhere that we wouldn’t have to dress up, although he likes his dancing and a good night on the town. I would like to know if it was his love of food or adventure that made him agree to become Nero Wolfe’s leg-man. After all, he showed he really didn’t need Wolfe to survive in 20th-century New York City, and yet he says, “Yes sir,” and goes out on the next errand. Robert Goldsborough is doing a wonderful job of answering some of these questions about the pre-Rex Stout era of their partnership in the prequels he’s writing. Maybe he has talked to Archie Goodwin.

Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane (aka Lady Peter), together or separately. The characters in Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey novels (continued by Jill Paton Walsh) are probably much smarter than me, but I think we could find something to talk about. It would be interesting to get Harriet’s slant on being a woman writer in a time that discouraged women writing. That’s an interesting time period, between World Wars 1 and 2. I never knew much about England’s role because my Irish-American family was so rabidly anti-English they wouldn’t even cross the border to Ontario for Sunday afternoon ice cream. And it was only ten miles away.

John Watson, M.D. I had a crush on him when I was in high school. I thought he was much cooler than Sherlock Holmes. He was ex-military, a man of action, and intelligent enough to have an advanced degree. Good-looking, too, at least in the early years, a tanned ex-soldier. I borrowed The Complete Sherlock Holmes from my high school library and renewed it continually for almost a year. I never saw the old movies, with Nigel Bruce whuffling around for comedic action, and I’m glad. The modern movie/TV Watsons are much better.

Dr. Leonard J. McCoy from the classic Star Trek series. I read the books based on the TV scripts, but they were done by an English sci-fic author who had never seen the show (James Blish). As I got older, I appreciated Blish’s writing more. He made those characters into thinking men. But McCoy’s twinkling blue eyes, his Southern background, and his skill made him very foxy, didn’t matter if he was the oldest guy on the ship. He started as an “extra” in that program, and ended up as a star. The books showed his compassion and his common sense.

Melville Dewey, aka Melvil Dui. I know, not a literary character as such – though I think someone may have written a novel featuring him. (There was a good long biographical article about him in AL – does that count?) I’d like to know how he transformed the Baconian theory of knowledge into the Dewey Decimal System (and the LC system), and how he decided to form the American Library Association. But I’d only want coffee with him, because a) he was an 1890’s university librarian, so he could be preachy; and b) he was a masher who diddled with the funds of the ALA and with more than a few of the female librarians, and got himself kicked out of the organization in disgrace. I’ll bet I’d probably end up paying for the coffee, too.

Here’s an little gift: an excerpt from Linda’s VALE OF THE VAMPIRE, book 2 in The Vampire of Manhattan series.

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Vale of Vampires
(Book 2 of The Vampire of Manhattan series)

Blurb:
At Good Hope Hospital and Hanford & Bogie Publishing, life goes on. Dr. Benjamin Smith has become the official physician of The Vampire of Manhattan. Dr. Aden Drinan grudgingly acquires a mentor in Brooklyn. Bill Sniffen gallops off to Canada after a hot story. Rosa resists being packed off to Italy. Jenna McArdle wrangles authors, editors, publishers, and the health issues of her last remaining family member, Jimmy.
Then Sniffen vanishes in Canada, and Jenna goes looking for him. During her travels, she meets a wise vampire hunter, a kindly Quebecois trapper, and a sophisticated vampire lord. Then Jenna also disappears, and the doctors begin searching for her. The jaunt to Canada promises to be a walk in the park. Central Park. After midnight. On a very bad night.

Excerpt:
“So that’s where you stand.” Fletcher set down the glass with a thud.
“That’s where I stand.” In one smooth motion Drinan refilled the glass, again without asking.
“You don’t screw up, Drinan, that’s the pisser.” Fletcher took another sip of the cognac in the spirit in which it was given. “They can gossip about your women and bitch about you skipping hospital meetings, but there’s not a doctor alive who’d say that Aden Drinan ever ditched a patient.”
“That’s the way I want to keep it.” Drinan also sipped cognac. Looking into the glass, he added, “That’s what’s important to me.”
“More important than your women?”
Drinan met his gaze. “Yes.”
Fletcher seemed greatly subdued, more than two shots of cognac should have done. He stood. “I’ll think about what you’ve said.”
“All right.” Drinan stood, too, and saw his guest back out into the darkened halls of the Doctors’ Annex. He shut the office door and sat down again in his chair. Thoughtfully, he put the cognac away. Fletcher was a good doc. All he needed was a little time.
The telephone rang. Drinan looked at the clock. Six o’clock on a Friday evening. A fine time for an emergency. Just when he wanted to get out of the office for a while. He could pretend he was not here; but he never did.
“Drinan.”
“Why, you still are at the office.”
Her voice made him smile. The weariness melted away. “Hello, Jenna. What can I do for you?”
“Do you have a date?”
“No.”
“Well, then. The Rainbow Room. Eight o’clock.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all week.”
“It must have been a heck of a week.”
“It was. Are you getting too liberated, or may I still pay our way?”
“Oh, you may, if you insist. I admit I’m going to ask you for a favor.”
“Not the Secret Life of Aden Drinan, I hope.”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Something far more mundane. I will go out and buy you a boutonniere, though.”
“I can live with that,” said Drinan. “Thanks, Jenna. I don’t know how you knew I needed some time away from this.”
“I have psychic powers,” Jenna said. “Some experts in the field have told me so.”

Author bio:
Linda Tiernan Kepner has loved genre fiction – science fiction, mystery, fantasy, and romance – since she was a child, although not much was available in “serious northern” New York State. Except for Canadian television and books available in school libraries, there was none to read – so she wrote her own. She has been writing since third grade, but truly published since the 1990s.
Linda’s science fiction and fantasy short stories have appeared in Absolute Magnitude magazine and anthology; Reality’s Escape; Sorcerer’s Apprentice; Dreams of Decadence; FantasticStoriesoftheImagination.com; and the anthologies Little Shop of Poisons and Potions, The Apothecary on the Street of Dreams, The Life and Times of Griswald Grimm, and Decopunk.
So far, Linda has published seven novels: Play the Game and Planting Walnuts (science fiction); Second Chance and Second Chance Sister (romance); The Whisperwood Ordinaire (fantasy fiction); and the paranormal series featuring the Vampire of Manhattan, Loving the Vampire and Vale of Vampires (to be released early June 2015, two books to follow).

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Find Linda here, most often:
Website: http://www.lindaTkepner.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/linda.t.kepner

But also:
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Linda-Kepner/e/B009BQY0XW
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Linda-Kepner?store=allproducts&keyword=Linda+Kepner

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Writing long…and short

I don’t think it’s a lie to say I’m verbose. As in, long winded, wordy, loquacious, garrulous…you get the message. My daughter read something of mine once and critiqued it by asking, “why do you say the same thing three times, differently? Why not just say it once, effectively?”

So happy her Dartmouth education paid off, because, really, she was right.

I write fast – no surprise there, since I talk and think fast.  Quick witted is what an admirer said of me once. My first drafts go on for hundreds of pages. Dialogue, exposition, explanation. Words and words and words. I just write whatever comes into my head while my fingers follow. I talk this way, as well, so it’s not a bombshell to admit my writing reflects this. If I got paid by the word I’d be a quadrillionaire ( if there is such a thing).

Even now, as I’m typing this, I find myself saying the same thing in different ways just  to make sure you, dear reader, get it.

Robert Parker and Elmore Leonard were two of my favorite writers when I was penning mysteries. Their dialogue was always spot on, even if it was a one word rebuke or answer to a question, and their descriptions required no more than a sentence or two for the reader to get the visual. They trusted their readers to understand what they were trying to convey and we always did. I live to write this way. The nicest compliment a reader can give me is that they “vividly saw what I wrote when they read it.”

I just submitted a story for a new series that will be coming out next Valentine’s Day. The word cap was 10-20 K, maximum. My stories are usually 85,000-100,000 words, easily. Writing this story for submission was an excellent way for me to learn to curtail my logorrhea. First draft was 27,615 words – and I thought all of them should be kept. No. They couldn’t. I had to eliminate at the very least 7,615. That’s a full scene for me.

Second draft I got it down to 22,005. Still not enough.

I had a dream one night on how to tighten a scene and BAM! the next day I got it down to roughly 14,500. This was good. I read the story at least 20 times, gave it to a friend and read little snippets to my coworkers.  They all agreed I should leave it as it stood. Don’t add. Don’t subtract.

I agreed. Today I submitted it to my Editor. We’ll see what happens, but this exercise taught me the benefit of culling extraneous words, tightening longwinded and rambling scenes, and focusing in on the specifics of the story and not worrying about the extra stuff no one needs to know about. As a writer, this is a good thing.

It’s not exactly a bad thing as a person either, since I do tend to ramble on and on and……..

 

 

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I’m on a time out and I’m NOT in trouble!

I’ve said many times before that any day I can write something – a page, a chapter, a blog entry, hell – even a grocery list! – is a good day for me. To put pen to paper, or in my case fingers to keyboard, just gives me a feeling of utter accomplishment and glee. I write everyday that I can and it’s usually EVERY DAY.

Well, this weekend I’m in a time out for today and some of tomorrow. I have to be somewhere where I won’t be able to write anything. I will probably go through writing withdrawal. Writers, you know the symptoms: your hands itch to lay themselves down on a keyboard and fly; your brain is tripping with ideas that you can’t engrave onto paper or laptop; you get that nervous tickle in your tummy when you think of a good plot line  or a dialogue run and you have nowhere to write it down. In my case, my legs start to bobble like a four year old who needs to go to the bathroom and the line to get in is 50 people deep, and they don’t stop unless I order them to.

I’ll be back to my keyboard the moment I am home and will most likely fall asleep at my desk, fingers splayed over the keys.

Sigh. Addictions are soul-sucking, especially writing addictions. But I mean that in a totally good way!

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The times, they are a changing…NOT!

I went to High School in the 1970’s, a time of great political strife and social turmoil in our country. America was coming off the hippy highs of the sixties and the age of Aquarius, and social norms were being destroyed and rewritten at an alarming rate. We’d put a man on the moon, finally brought our Viet Nam vets home to a less than stellar homecoming embrace, seen a President disgraced while in office, and been confronted full in the face with racism, sexism, ageism and Wall Street greed.

I attended  a public high school where a New York City police office was stationed at the entrance to the school before this became the societal norm. My school was huge, with over 1500 students spread across grades 9-12. I entered in 1974 a scared, nervous, naïve, smart and shy 14 year old, and graduated in 1978 the same way.

As an only child, I’d been coddled and protected from what my mother called, “the cruelty of the world.” As a child of divorce, I was an anomaly in school. In my entire grade there were only 3 kids whose parents had divorced. Me and a set of twins who were habitually in the principal’s office. And since my mother had remarried, her last name was different from mine.

This made me a social oddity when the teenage world didn’t accept others who were different from them. Coupled with the fact that I was smart – really smart – and grossly overweight ( think killer Orca) from an emotional eating disorder, you can guess I wasn’t the most popular chick in the school.

I was the kid that the mean girls- who were simply called bullies in my time –picked on daily. I was the girl in class who wrecked the test curve by getting better grades than 99 % of the rest of the class. I was the girl teachers loved to call on because I always had the correct answer to a question, despite the fact I hated to be called on because it drew attention to me that I didn’t want.

I never had a boyfriend in high school, didn’t go to dances, never attended prom, and sat home nights with my mother and stepfather, watching All in the Family and The Carol Burnett Show. I was that socially awkward and isolated kid who could have turned to the dark side because no one would listen.

The difference between high school kids in the 1970’s and now isn’t that different. Bullies still bully; druggies still drug. The jocks rule the playground, smart kids lead the class and everyone else in the middle just tries to get by enough to graduate.

Two things that did make me different from my peers and which actually did keep me from going to the dark side, were my 4 wonderful English teachers and my love of writing. All helped me get through some tough years and even tougher social situations.

Teachers do not now, and have never in my mind, gotten the respect and appreciation they so richly deserve. Without that one teacher who told me I was made for great things, or the other who told me someday she would come to my book signing when I “made it big,” I would never have had the courage to show my work – my deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts – to others. I would have continued to hold my work hostage, never letting any prying eyes go through it for fear of ridicule and criticism.

I was lucky. I had four wonderful people guide me towards what made me most happy and fostered that love unconditionally.

If you’ve had a favorite teacher, now, at the beginning of this new and fresh year, maybe you should call them, Friend them, email or snail-mail them and remind them what they did for you.

It’s never too late to let someone know what they meant to you during what has to be the most difficult time in a person’s life: Adolescence!

 

 

 

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Filed under Author, Contemporary Romance, Romance, Strong Women

A non-resolution resolution…

I’m not one to make New Year’s Resolutions. I’ve always believed that if you want to change something at any time – just pull a Nike and DO IT! There’s no real reason to wait until a monday to start a diet, or until the kids are out of the house to write, or anything else. If the thought occurs, put action behind it right then and there.

Can you tell I hate to wait for things??

This year, I’m changing it up a bit. While I’m not making tried and true resolutions, I do intend to change a few things to make my life and the lives of those around me better this year. I call these things INTENTIONS, not Resolutions.

First and foremost, I INTEND to devote a lot more time to blogging. I was on fire last year when I started this blog, but with the passing of the year, I waned a bit. I intend to document here at least 3 times weekly ( sometimes, hopefully, more).

I fully INTEND  to have at least one more book ready for publication by my birthday in May. I’ve got two out to the publisher now, and another one in consideration. I want my current WIP ready to go to the publisher, done and completely perfect ( or as close as I can get) by my 55th birthday.

I INTEND to do two brand new, totally non-Peggylike things this year. One of them will be trapezing, The other is a secret for now. I’ll revel it at the end of February.

I have the fullest INTENTION of being a calmer, less stressed wife and mother this year. I know: this intention is really a challenge, but hey, I’m up for it! With my retirement date set for April 30, I think I will be better able to do this since I won’t have healthcare work issues to occupy most of my time anymore.

I INTEND to live a less cluttered life – physically, emotionally and spiritually. There are many things in my life and surrounding me that I need to let go, get rid of, and not replace. More on those things in later blogs, but suffice it to say I am having a helluva garage sale this spring!

So, my intentions are now written in laptop stone so I won’t forget them or shove them to the back burner. What are your intentions for 2015?

 

 

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