Clovia is one of the funniest people I've ever met. Even though we've never met. We've come close, a couple times, when she's visited my neck of the woods. But the fates have always conspired against us. Still, I'm hopeful we'll overcome those obstacles one day. Clovia is wicked clever, and funny, and I love anything she writes, whether it's a tweet, a blog comment, or the answer to "biter or licker". And now she has BOOKS!
Please help me welcome the lovely and talented Clovia Shaw to Friday Friends!
Of all the characters you've created, which one is your favorite? (Don't worry. We won't let the other characters read this.) Why do you love them best? This is a terribly weaselly answer, but I am a fickle little god, and my affections shift from character to character. Sometimes something comes out in the course of writing a secondary or tertiary character, and I get enamored with them, what their backstory is, who they'll fall in love with and how. For Sly Magic, I will say that the will o' wisp was fun to write, because it's a challenge giving a flicker of green light personality without going over the line into Scrappy Doo hate-ability.
Oooh, I can't wait to read the will o' wisp. And secondary characters are fun to fall in love with, since they haven't yet exhibited that annoying, "I'm not gonna talk to you!" thing. What's your go-to "writing avoidance" technique? (We're hoping to add some new ones to our repertoire.) Research! Or, uh, "research." Because the internet rabbit hole allows me to feel productive when I'm actually just wasting time and avoiding the actual work. I'd be rabbit-holing whether I had something to write or not, so it's just playing most of the time.
Yeah, research gets me every time. But hey, I'm learning SO MUCH! If you were able to go on a writing retreat (and bring all of us along, of course!), where would it be? Oh, gosh. I'd love to say an Irish castle or something because it sounds wonderful, but that's the problem--I'd spend all my time exploring instead of writing. Also drafty. So, let's see. I'd take you all somewhere beautiful and cold, with a breathtaking view and magical atmosphere, but so miserably frigid outside you'd just want to stay inside and write by the massive fireplace.
Hmm, I like your strategy, but since I hate the cold, it better be a MASSIVE fireplace with a raised hearth for me to sit on. What's the word you love to use (and abuse and overuse, so you have to take it out of your book during edits)? Ahaha! Okay, I abuse way too many words to pick just one. I am a word hoarder extraordinaire. There are teetering stacks of words with narrow pathways through them. Maybe "driving." He had a deep, driving need. Dark things and past things and dark past things fueled the driving hunger underneath things--My characters are often driven. They rarely amble anywhere.
LOL -- maybe they're training to be chauffeurs! Name the first thing you'll do when you make a million dollars from your books. Buy my mom a good house in a nice town. Then take my husband to a drafty old castle in Ireland as a present for putting up with my crap for this long. Then more Fluevogs.
Coffee or tea? Tea!
Drafting or revising? Drafting.
Twitter or Facebook? Twitter forever!
Winter or Summer? Winter.
Baseball or Football? No.
Heels or flats? Heels for hawt, flats for, you know, moving around.
Morning or evening? Evening.
Abs or pecs? All of it. ALL OF IT.
Paper or plastic? My own reusable bags.
Biter or licker? (Hey! I'm talking ice cream cones here!) Depends on the cone, amirite?
Clovia Shaw is an ordained Dudeist Priest (who can resist an Ordain Me! button?), a collector of Urban Vinyl art toys, and once designed a line of elongated pennies for belly dancers. She has degrees in both Journalism and Interior Design, and is probably thinking really hard about putting actual pants on right now.
A big fan of Kissing Books in which things blow up, Clovia lives in Annapolis, with her very patient husband and the ghost of a very good dog.
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Outcast kitsune Lincoln Black is descended from the shapeshifting fox-wives of Asian folklore. He's also cursed--his harmless taste for his lovers' vital energy is becoming an uncontrollable hunger. Armed with a geomancer he might kill with one kiss, his own fox magic, and a will o' wisp with an attitude problem, Linc must break this curse, or become a monster straight out of Japanese fairytales.
“Rain-check on Auntie Sweet’s?” Linc asked, stepping close. Delia nodded, her skin bumping all over with the thought that an invisible fox tail might be sneaking up on her again. So, so wrong. “Can I at least walk you?”
“You’ll be late. The door rotates in twenty minutes.”
“How am I supposed to find it?”
A tiny spark winked out of Delia’s top, throwing a soft pink light over them.
“Were you in there the whole time?” Linc demanded, then tilted his head, cupping a hand to let the red will o' wisp swirl against his palm. “Are you blushing?” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he looked at Delia again. “No. You’re blushing.”
“Time’s a-wastin’, Brer Fox,” she said coolly.