“Welcome, welcome!
Welcome to the first ever… Interview Saturday!”
A brown-haired girl
bounces out from behind a blue curtain onto a stage, facing the curious readers
who await the first-ever character to be interviewed. Ashley holds her arms
out, expecting applause, and frowns when there is none. Or maybe there is.
Either way, she turns back to the curtains.
“Come on!” She spins
around. “Will everyone please welcome Sula from The
Swan Prince, a newly-released novella by Danielle E. Shipley! Below
is the summary of The Swan Prince, and a little bit about Sula herself.”
Catching her leg in a
bear trap proves the least of Sula’s worries. Haunted by an enchanted monster
from a past she dare not reveal, and hounded by the perilously perceptive young
village doctor, Villem Deere, the headstrong girl of the woods gambles with
fate by binding hers to that of Sigmund, the captivating orphan boy with
mysterious nightly business of his own.
16-year-old Sula
claims to hail from Rohrburing Town, kingdom of Tipsilvren. She says her
parents died before she was old enough to know them, leaving her in the care of
various foster homes until her recent appearance in Wilderhark Forest. She
expresses the hope that further questions steer clear of her backstory, because
she’s tired of making up lies.
Sula walks onstage
(with a valiant lack of limp, considering her recent encounter with the bear
trap), waving like the focal point of a parade. “Hello, everyone. If you’re
applauding, keep it up a little longer… yes, that will do; thank you.”
Ashley smiles and
beckons Sula to a seat sitting off to the side, and grabs a chair, turning it
so she leans forward against the back of the chair. “It’s nice to meet you,
Sula. How’s it going?”
“My pleasure to be
here, Ashley. And as far as I know, it’s going well enough.” She shrugs an
unruly lock of chestnut hair off her shoulder. “I don’t pay much attention to
the business side of things, once the story’s typed up. I just live it; and,
well, live beyond it, of course. ‘The End’ is nothing like the end, you know.”
“Definitely not,” Ashley
agrees. “So how in the world did you get caught in a bear trap? And by the by,
who’s this Sigmund?”
“You know how grownups
tell you not to run around with a sharp stick?” Sula says. “They should throw
in a warning about running around in dark forests where people leave steel
traps lying about, as well. Or they should post signs, or something. Honestly,
is a big, red ‘BEWARE’ and a little picture of spring-powered metal teeth too
much to ask? I doubt most bears would know the difference, and it might have
spared me a world of pain! As for Sigmund…” Her eyes slide away evasively. “Oh,
what to say about him? He’s a boy I met and stalked for a bit and happened to
be able to relate to on… certain levels. We were traveling companions, for a
good portion of the book. Anything more than that, I don’t think my publicist
would be terribly happy about me discussing in detail. …Well, I suppose I can
say he’s strangely beautiful. That’s allowed, right, author?” she calls
offstage.
With a mischievous grin,
Ashley responds, “Companions, sure. At least you’re admitting to call him
beautiful.” She snickers, then nods. “This story is kind of like a fairy tale,
judging by the blurb of the series itself and by the words of your author. Do
you see it as a fairy tale…or nightmare? Why?”
Sula lifts an ironic
eyebrow. “Who says the two need be mutually exclusive? Some old tales of the
genre read like a surreal pageant of horrors. My story’s not as bad as all
that, thank goodness; no murdered people’s body parts singing at me, or any such
nonsense. Still, to read, it’s an obvious fairy tale. And to live... yes, I
would say ‘nightmare’ sometimes applies. Dealing with a magical curse is not
all sunshine and roses; more like moonshadow and thorns.”
“I’ve never heard of
moonshadow, but it doesn’t sound pleasant. Nor does singing body parts…” She shies
back uncomfortably at the mental image. “If you could tell or do something to your
creator, what would it be? Please keep it rated G! Though if you wish you could
punch her in the face, I totally sympathize. Just don’t punch me. No violence
permitted on this stage!”
“Oh, I can tell her
anything I want. She lives for verbal abuse from characters.” Her lips’ corners
tug upward. “All right, perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration. But anything I
want to tell her, she’s heard. Now, if I could do anything to her… I
think I’d write her into a book or three, and see how she likes going through
‘adventures’ for the entertainment of others. Maybe I’d give her a happy
ending, maybe I wouldn’t. No guarantees, the story does what it will,
blah-blah-authorial-blah.”
“Well, that’d be the
scary part for her,” Ashley says with a hint of sympathy. “Having no idea what
sort of ending you’ll get.” After a moment, she inquires, “So, this Villem Deere
guy… What’s with him? He helped you out of the trap, I’m guessing. What’s with
the animosity?” Ashley grins. “Is he cute?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Sula grimaces. “Yes, he is. And yes, he treated my injury. All of which would
be all well and good, if he weren’t so sky-blasted nosey. Not all of us
have the luxury of honesty, you know. Some of us have secrets to protect, which
becomes far more problematic when you’ve got people like Doctor Deere trying to
dissect your soul at every turn with that scalpel-sharp gaze of his.”
Ashley laughs, then
says, “The story you’re in just recently released. If you could say something
to the readers, what would that be?” Ashley taps her chin. “I’ve never thought
about that myself… I guess I might tell them to not be jealous over my awesome
power and…” She blinks at a probably glowering Sula. “Right. Sorry. Speak!
Speak to your readers.” She gestures audience-ward.
“Well, if they’ve
bought the book – or even just nagged their local librarians into stocking the
book to be borrowed (hint, hint, audience: These are good things to do) – I
would like to extend my thanks. Most of the readers have probably never been
fictional characters, and so they may not know, but having your story out for
sale is a big, legitimizing deal. Having total strangers in another world
reading about your misfortunes makes living it more worthwhile; like, oh,
good, somebody’s getting something out of this fiasco; cheers. And triumphs
are made to be shared, so I like readers knowing about the good parts, too. I
also like letters. It would be nice to receive some fan letters.” She peers
narrowly out into the darkness beyond the stage. “I do have fans, don’t I? I’d
better. I mean, I don’t know that I would necessarily get along with myself,
but I would certainly be Team Sula!” Decisive nod.
I think I’m on Team Deere, Ashley decides. “Alrighty, then. Something a
little in my realm. If you had a superpower, what superpower would you want? It
can go as far as flying to being able to make your bed with a snap of your fingers!”
Ashley snickers. “Other than the one I have, that last one would be awesome.”
She catches herself before running off on another tangent.
Her eyes gleam
greener. “Any superpower? The one that flies to mind is invisibility. My
life would have been drastically easier if nobody saw me when I didn’t want
them to! But then, it wouldn’t have solved everything. What would
have?” She presses her lips tight and squints into the distance, considering
her options, then thrusts a finger in the air. “Aha! An anti-enchantment power!
No magic-worker’s power would work upon me – no, sir, it would backfire right
onto them! – and any curse I came in contact with would automatically unravel.”
She crosses her arms, expression smugly victorious. “That would set my
story to rights by Chapter Two!”
Ashley starts laughing. “But
then what would the point be of releasing your story?” she asks. “What if you
could just decide which curses would be lifted? Some curses have good reasons…”
She trails off. “Hmm, hmm… Okay, here’s one. If you had a library, what books
would someone expect to find in it? Aside from yours, of course!”
“Mm, the exciting
kind. People doing things, not just a lot of talk and philosophizing and rubbish.
Something with attractive men being daring, and clever girls being daring… I’m
all for those who dare. Not terribly thick books, I expect; I like stories to
get to the point. And I expect high-quality binding; a good book, like a good
dinner, should be a feast for the eyes as well as your innermost parts. That’s
what my father liked to sa— would have liked to say,” Sula says abruptly, her
face gone tight and hot. “Or so I like to imagine; as those who’ve never known
their parents are known to do.”
“I agree!” Ashley states
passionately, but seems a little confused at the double-take. “So, judging by
the fact he seems to be the other half of the equation of this story, aside
from this Villem Deere… How does Sigmund perceive you? How do you perceive
yourself?”
“Oh, he started off
thinking I’m pigheaded and full of myself with an inflated sense of
entitlement,” she says dismissively. “I won’t say I’m not those things,
to a certain, wholly justified degree. But I’m also adaptable; I know how to
play nice, when it’s necessary – which it was with Sigmund, a wearying amount
of the time. So I sucked it up, soldiered through, and got him to change his
tune about me pretty quick, thank you very much.”
Ashley tilts her head to
the side, just a bit. “Um, okay.” She hesitates. “You know, you’re kind
of…uptight. You might try to relax a little. On that topic, how do you
alleviate stress? I dance, myself.”
“Alone time. I swear
up and down by it. No people, no playacting, just me and a few hours to kill
wandering around. It helps me clear my head, settle my blood, get my masks back
in order and ready for wear. Sula Time: It saves lives.”
“Seems effective…and
sounds like a friend of mine. Okay, so since we’re all human, we’re bound to
have downfalls. Or at least I hope we are. Or there’s something wrong with me.
Help me out…name one or two of your downfalls.”
“When I fail to think
twice before I speak.” Her mouth twists downward. “That’s caused problems.
Being clever only works when you remember to involve your brain. Blind impulse
will only take you so far. Not that my impulses are blind to everything;
just the things to either side of the straight line between me and my goal. I
get single-minded about going after what I want, and everything else gets
blurred out. It’s all too easy to miss important things, that way.”
“I actually sympathize
there,” Ashley murmurs. “Alrighty, I think I’ll call just one more question.
Hm, let’s make this a good one.” Ashley stands up and turns in a circle,
looking around, hmming in search of a question. “Ooh, I know!” She
turns back to Sula. “In the traditional interview manner…” She tips her chin up
to give the best impression of an official-businesswoman look she can. “Where
do you see yourself in five years?”
“Oh, I know exactly
where I’ll be in five years,” says Sula, her smile both keeping and flaunting a
secret. “I’ve seen my story’s sequel, which I’m afraid you won’t be able to do
until the fall. I can give you a few hints about the five-year mark, though.
One, I’m happily married to my true love. Two, I use the term ‘happily’
loosely; my husband and I shall actually be privately distressed about
something. Three, that distressing something will be resolved by the second
page of Book Two’s first chapter, and I won’t have a care in the world. …until
about a page-and-a-half later. Read all about it upon the upcoming release of ‘The
Stone Kingdom (Book Two of The Wilderhark Tales)’.”
“Whoo! Looking forward
to it! Thank you so much, Sula.” Ashley runs over to her and pulls her out of
her seat, dancing in a little circle. “For being part of the very first
Interview Saturday! Here’s to hoping your book gets lots and lots of sales. It
was awesome getting to know you more.” She holds her hand out to Sula to shake.
Then she turns to the audience. “Wave!” And so she waves, probably waving
Sula’s arm out of her socket as well.
Sula glares offstage
like, So help me, if this little goose doesn’t unhand me in the next
half-a-second… In the shadows, her author can be seen making gestures like,
Just grin and bear it, you’re nearly through!
“With that, we’ll see
you next week! C’mon, let’s grab lunch. It’s on me!” With that, Ashley drags
Sula offstage, probably off to ask her brother for money for said lunch. Then
she leans back on stage. “Thanks for reading, audience!”
And…curtains close.
